Hands
by Ottereel
Summary: Clark is kidnapped by an old 'friend' and finds himself in his worst nightmare, a lab. Chloe and Oliver work to help his wife, Beth, find him and recover. Based from Season 6, inspired by the lack of love for Clark.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: "Hands…"

**Author**: Ottereel

**Pairing**: Clark and Beth, Chlollie, Lexana

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: AU, After Season 6. Clark is kidnapped and trying to survive his worst nightmare, tested in a lab, while his wife suffers at home.

**Disclaimer**: None of the Smallville characters belong to me, although Clark should ;), but the new characters are my creation.

**Hot and Cold**

_Her hands were on me. I could feel the softness and warmth as they slid up and over my shoulders, across my collar bone and sensually down my chest. Every muscle in my body contracted and released in response to Beth's touch. _

_A moan escaped my throat when she climbed over me and her thighs pressed into mine. Her hair fell and tickled my chest as she arched her back and lowed down to her elbows. _

_With her warm breath caressing my neck and face, she brushed across my skin lightly with her silky lips. _

_I let my hands roam and was delighted with each new soft spot I found on her forearms, her upper arms, swollen from strain, her back and waist. I wanted to reach further but I waited in ecstasy as her lips pressed up on my jaw, my chin and finally my mouth. _

_I was already panting when her lips sealed with mine and we breathed heavily together, her soft amber hair falling like curtains on either side of my face. She inhaled harshly when my fingers caressed her silky and smooth breasts. I did the same when she pushed her fingers into my hair and her arm under my back as she settled all of her warm, naked weight onto my aroused frame._

_The pressure was almost more than I could take, but I resolved to make this last and I tried to relax into everything; her breaths, her whines, and the slick suction she had on my tongue. Running my hands up her back, I deliberately tangled my fingers in her long silky hair and pulled her tight against my chest. She broke the kiss and opened her heavy eyes. Looking into her blue irises, I smiled just before rolling us both onto our sides._

_I opened my mouth to breathe when a sharp pain ripped through my left leg. Groaning instead, I jerked back to see what happened._

"_Clark, what's wrong?"_

_I could find nothing, but a distinct and familiar weakness was spreading swiftly up my leg and causing every muscle up to my hip to contract in excruciating pain. _

"_Clark?!" Her eyes widened in fear and she tried to comfort me._

_I moaned and looked deeply into her eyes through the tears in my own, I had to make this moment last, I had to. "Beth!"_

--

I can feel the cold steel under my bare skin even before I open my eyes. "No." I moan. And I shudder.

"Yes, sorry Clark. I didn't mean to disturb your, um, dream."

"Lana." I push my eyelids open to find my high school sweetheart standing beside me with an emotionless expression and an empty needle in her hand.

She eyes the sheet on my lap and smiles coolly. "It was time; you know the drill, honey."

Her silky voice does little to comfort me; the pain is overwhelming again and my limbs jerk without my permission against the restraints.

"You're going to tear your skin again, Clark." She reprimands.

I can feel her hand on my thigh right where she stuck the needle and I wince, "Errgh!" I whimper, "Why?" I hate showing her my weakness and I know her answer won't change, but my mind is beginning to drown again in waves of agony.

Hearing the needle clank on the cold metal tray, I watch her pick up and read the ever-present clipboard. "According to the plan," she focuses on me for a second, "and you know this already," she glances down again. "Tests must be performed at regular intervals on alternating fields."

My chest hiccups in pain, "You, you make me s-sound like a video guh- game."

She clicks her pen open and adds notes to my chart, "That's good, sense of humor is still intact."

Encouraged by her mood, I wonder if begging might work this time. "Lana, ple-ease," I cough out as I tilt my head to catch her attention.

It seems to work; she reaches past her clipboard and smudges a runaway tear from my cheek. Her eyes soften, "Oh Clark, I wish you'd quit fighting the serum. It doesn't help your pain level."

I jerk my face away from her hand and feel a sarcastic smirk stretch my lips as I try not to wretch up the nothingness in my stomach. "So, if I pump- pumped acid 'nto your veins, w- would you lay back and re-lax? C- cause I can't control my bo-, my body's reaction to poison." I raise my shackled hands and feet for dramatic effect.

No response, but I can hear her high heels clack on the concrete floor and I know she's leaving my room. I'm grateful she doesn't stay to watch me suffer. I don't know who she is anymore and I can't concentrate on her with Kryptonite jacking its way through my system. Focusing on the dirty ceiling panel above, I listen to my own labored breaths and groans fill the void.

And I wait for the pain to knock me out.

"P- please."

--

**to Assist**

"Thanks for coming, Chloe." I open the kitchen door and my arms to Clark's best friend in the world.

"Yeah," she pulls out of my arms and glances around the house as she walks in, "It's a good thing you caught me before I left for work. So," she focuses on me again. "How long did you say he's been gone?"

"Last night was the second night. And I wasn't too worried the first night because there have been times when he's been too busy with some catastrophe that he can't just stop and call me. But when," Words fail me and my hands fly up, showing my frustration.

She finishes my sentence, "But when he doesn't show up or call on the second night, you begin to worry." She strokes my arms lightly, "Trust me, I know all about _that_ feeling." She turns to the kitchen. "Where is his computer?"

"Dining room," I follow her to the warm maple table set and watch her sit down to Clark's open laptop. "I was hoping to find something about where he might be, but I'm not the computer whiz in this family," I wink at her.

She grins, showing her teeth, "Well, you called the right person!" Her eyes drop to the monitor as her fingers begin clicking away at the keyboard. "You didn't delete any emails or drafts did you?"

"You mean I can open his email?"

"I guess that answers my question." A knowing and teasing smile stretches her lips without her eyes ever leaving the monitor. "You both have email set up with the same S-Mail account, hon." She squinches her eyes slightly, "And I know for a fact that Clark never keys in his passwords, so the computer remembers for him."

Bumping her in the arm, I ask playfully, "And you know this, how?"

She shrugs and finally focuses on me, "I've been observing around here for a long, long time, Beth." She scans the documents she's found and shakes her head. "I can't see anything marked 'evil plot' or 'rescue mission' without reading into them more. Why don't you read over these and call me tonight on my drive home from work?"

"I can do that." I smile through my tension.

She nips at her thumbnail for a moment and then logs onto the internet. "Maybe the history will tell me… darn, there are only a handful of addresses here." She leans into the back of her chair, "No surprise, really, I'm sure Clark's experience with Dr. Virgil Swann and Lex Luthor taught him to clean up after himself."

I'm curious. "Okay, I'm barely keeping up with your techno-talk, Chloe, so maybe this is a stupid question. But, if he," I pause to rephrase, "why would he leave them this time? Do you think he got interrupted?"

"Hmm," Chloe's brows come up, "I get where you're going with that, if he's always so careful to delete, then why are these still here? Maybe," she clicks on the first address, "these are more helpful than we thought."

I read the first website. "World Watch? What is that?"

Chloe nods, "Yeah, I remember, the Daily Planet uses sources like this for its international columns. It's a subscription website that sends out news as it's happening, and judging by the news coming up two days ago, there's a lot going on around us." She snorts, "Geesh, there's a tragedy or attack of some kind in nearly every article on this page alone."

I rub the back of my neck, "Chloe, he's in those places, isn't he, helping those people?"

"I hadn't heard of these stories, but I'm not as savvy with international news as I should be. But knowing Clark and his history of going supersonic to play savior, it wouldn't surprise me." She closes the page, the laptop and heads to the kitchen for a refill. "It's just not like him to not tell either one of us what he's up to, especially when he's been gone like this for a few days." She fills her travel cup from my coffee pot and turns to me, her lip is caught under her upper teeth. "Is everything hunky dory between you two right now?"

--

**to Treasure or Trash**

_Her hands were on me. Her red hair glistened in the sunshine as she bore her eyes into mine. Tears filled her blue eyes and she choked on her words, "Clark, just because I'm leaving this farm, doesn't mean you have to stay."_

"_But Mom,"_

"_Your father would never have wanted you strapped down here, either." She let go of my cheeks to dab her own. "He and I both knew you'd leave this farm someday. Your future is too big for this little piece of land."_

"_But this_ piece of land_ has been in our family for generations. I can't let go of it." I turned to survey the fields and outbuildings I'd grown up in. The years of memories warmed me until I pictured this farm empty. Things were definitely going to change._

_Her hand was on my shoulder and I turned back to her. "But that doesn't mean _you_ have to stay. With my job, we can afford to hire someone else to be caretaker," she focused on the beauty around us and absently continued, "Or we could rent the fields out; there are always men in need of work."_

"_Mom."_

_She drank in our surroundings and her eyes roamed slowly back to me._

"_We can talk about this another time." I looked down at my watch. "You have a plane to catch and a hearing with your name on it." I faked a smile. I couldn't believe the emotion that was washing over me with her leaving. It seemed so final somehow. _

_Her hands were on my cheeks again. "I love you, Clark."_

_I hugged her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder, and breathed in the scents of her hair, her clothing, her love. "I love you, too, so much." Taking a breath, I pulled back and led her by the hand to her seat in the limousine. Leaning down to her open window, I reminded her, "Call me when you need a lunch buddy or something. You do remember I can be there in a flash, right?"_

_She nodded, but she couldn't speak over the tightness in her throat._

_There was a tug on my arm and I turned._

--

My eyes open to find Lana pushing my restraint upward over my forearm, leaving my hand free. When she sees me awake, she jumps a little and her eyebrows come down in a hurry, "If you even twitch, Clark, I swear I'll pull the cord! You know I will!"

My vision is strong, so I lift my head to see what she is doing. Instantly, dizziness overwhelms me and I drop my head back to the table and slam my eyes shut. A heavy weakness spreads over me like a thick blanket and I know I couldn't fight her if I tried. I whisper, "S'okay."

"Try to be still this time, Clark, I'm gonna stitch these up," she sighs with a flare of irritation. "But I can still reach that cord."

"Stitch what?" I swallow hard and try to concentrate on her spinning image.

"Like you don't remember!" Something cold and wet runs across my wrist and I can feel a hot sting. When I don't respond, she looks up at me with concern in her eyes. "You do remember, don't you Clark?"

I don't know what she's talking about and I don't want to think about it either. Taking a deep breath, I let my head loll to one side.

"Clark? You remember why your wrists and ankles are cut, don't you?" Unable to let this go, she leans over me cautiously at first and then moves real close, her dark golden eyes boring into my subconscious, but I'm too tired to care.

"Doesn't matter." I look up to the ceiling and let my eyelids fall shut.

"Clark!" Her voice is louder and full of worry. "What's wrong, what are you feeling?"

With effort, I turn my head to look at her again and am disappointed to see she is holding a pen over my clipboard. I lift my head and look at the bloody scrapes on my left wrist and bark with little energy, "What do you expect? You have me captured here against my will… torturing me with poison... Did you think this lab rat wouldn't be affected somehow?!" Spit comes out on my last sentence, and I don't care.

She lifts her chin and I see nothing in her eyes; not a glimmer of love, mercy or emotion.

All thought flies from my mind when a needle pushes into my wrist, searing and burning. "Urgh!" Holding my breath, I try not to cry out as she tugs harshly and my skin tightens and bunches up. Stitches. After she works on that wrist and both ankles, I am too exhausted to hide the pain and I cry out with each stitch she laces into my other wrist.

My hair is damp from tears when she finally finishes; I can feel the cool moisture as my limbs throb in pain. "Okay, Clark, I'm done." I blink harshly to clear my eyes. Lana's long dark hair shines softly in the glow from the window as her hands work to re-secure my wrist.

I try to breathe deeply, but it's difficult as the ever-present Kryptonite on my restraints bleed into my system. "How long has it been?"

She hugs her clipboard and asks brightly, "Since what, you made me happy?"

I roll my head in frustration and regret it as the room swims again. Swallowing back bile rising from my throat, I choke out, "B- been here."

"Why, Clark?" Lana tosses her head dramatically and looks at me with smiling puppy-dog eyes. "Are you missing your sweet little wife?"

I always hated her sarcasm, but this time I am alarmed; I know nothing about Beth's situation. "Lana!" I growl out her name as angrily as I can muster. "You stay [i]away[/i] from Beth."

There's a look in her eyes at that, I can't decipher her reaction, but it quickly slides into a sly smile and her voice comes out slick. "You would be wise to forget about her, my handsome alien," her hand glides over my chest as she focuses on my lips, "you're all mine now."

How I ever fell for that false charm before I'll never know; I guess I am seeing 20/20 now. When she pulls away to leave, I call out to her weakly, "Where is she, Lana?" I need to know Beth is safe.

She focuses on her watch and then back at me, looking me right in the eyes. And she smiles, just a little. My spirits rise at the thought she's going to tell me. "Try to get some rest, I'll be back in about three hours to administer your next test."

I just stare back at her blankly, my mouth falling open in shock.

And that's it; her heels clack on the floor as she exits my room.

Looking up to the ceiling, I see Beth's big blue eyes smile at me in my head. Does she hate me for not being there? Does she think I'm dead? What is she doing right now? Is she okay? The thought of Lana causing her any trouble brings the bile back up.

Swallowing hard, I pull my chin down and look again at the metal cuff holding my wrist. There's a faint green glow coming from the top of the bracket; a glow that means I'm going nowhere. And I don't know how long it's been, but somehow the poison hasn't killed me yet.

I can't save Beth. I can't save myself. And I ache to roll onto my side to stretch or curl up for true rest. Depression washes over me, nearly drowning. I let my eyes close, finally, praying sleep will come quickly.

--

**to Soothe**

Her hands are on me. "He feels warm." I can feel her cool fingers pressing the monitor nodes tightly against my scalp, forehead and chest. I know what this means and I try to retreat to the dreams I was just thrust from. Concentrating, I realize that my dreams were not that great, either. Instead of comforting or even sexy, they were disturbing and scary. Images of weapons, angry faces and raging storms flashed brilliantly and violently, exhausting me more than I was before.

But what awaits me isn't any better.

I can't make my eyes open, but I'm instantly alert when I hear a new and familiar voice.

"Look at the monitor, Lana, his temperature is spiking!"

Lex? I have to see, to ask him to help me. _Please_. I'm too tired to wake up fully.

"And these stitches are pathetic!"

"Look, Lex, I'm not a doctor." Her voice is annoyed. "I'm not even a nurse. Not to mention having to work with his pitiful screams wailing through the room. It's SO grating." Her heels clack away and she barks from the far side of the room, "If you want a professional job, then get a professional or figure out a way to get him into the sunlight for awhile."

The door slams and I wonder if anyone is left in my room with me.

Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth to call out, to beg him. He has to help me, he was my friend once. But all that comes out is a low moan. Why can't I get more out? He'll never hear me.

A hand is on me. "It'll be alright, Clark. I'm going to take care of you."

At last. He's here to save me from Lana, he's going to help me. A sigh of relief leaves me and I lose my hold on consciousness.

--

Looking out the front window, I shiver slightly at seeing soft gentle snowflakes falling to the earth and I rub my hands up and down my arms. It's beautiful, just like inside a snow globe. Leaning my forehead against the cold plate glass, I bite my lip at the thought, "My world sure has been shaken up." Feeling pressure build up that will lead to another tension headache, I brush the tear streaks from my cheeks and drag my limbs to the kitchen for some tea.

As I fill the kettle with water, I can feel the pull, the need to look out the window again. "Please," I whisper, hoping to see him parking the tractor or moving up the back steps. Slamming the faucet off, I take a deep breath and raise my eyes to the window pane in front of me.

He's not there.

All that is moving outside are the cattle in the west field and Clark's favorite horse, Trixie, in the east. The animals seem frisky this morning, scurrying happily in the snowfall. Setting my kettle on the heat, I realize they just might be glad they have food and proper care again.

Two days after Clark disappeared, I called the neighbor and asked him to show me how to take care of the farm animals.

He arrived 10 minutes later, pulling his green pickup confidently into the driveway. He was all smiles with a black and royal blue scarf around his neck. "Evenin' Mrs. K-, um, Mrs…"

His smile vanished as he tripped over what to call me. "Mr. Jacobs, please call me Beth."

"Thank you, Beth, I will." The red tint to his cheeks dissipated as his lips widened. He tugged on his UK ballcap and tilted his head toward the main outbuilding. "So, Clark went off and left you here by yourself to tend the farm?"

"Um," I pinched my lips together to stem tears, Clark's absence was still fresh, I was still trying to understand the emptiness and abandonment. "He uh, you know Clark."

Mr. Jacobs laughed heartily, "That I do, that boy never did sit still long around here." He lifted the bill of his cap, "Shall we get started?"

Warmed by his lighthearted laughter, I nodded, "Yes, and thank you for coming to my rescue, Mr. Jacobs."

He turned and we both walked to the barn. "Aw, anything for Mrs. Kent and Clark, they're pillars…, oh, and now you, Miss Beth," his chin dropped and he blushed slightly, "_anything_."

Two days later, I sat frustrated on a short stool up against one of the particularly stinky and stubborn cows when Mr. Jacobs stepped into the barn, looking about. "Miss Beth, are you in here?"

I stood slowly, feeling my knees complain, and waved, "Over here, Mr. Jacobs."

His chin came up and his brows went down as he peered over the stalls. "Is there something wrong with that mama Guerns'?"

I wiped sweat from my forehead and sighed loudly, "No, sir, just trying to milk her."

He looked down at his watch and his eyes widened. "It's nearly 10:00, did you have trouble wrangling them in this morning?"

"No, sir, I've been milking them since 7:30." His head started shaking and I interrupted his next words. "I know, Mr. Jacobs," I could feel tears burning behind my eyes. "But they're so stubborn this morning… and fidgety…" My throat tightened and I couldn't say another word without bawling like that ornery cow, so I held my breath.

He popped his ballcap off his head and wiped his receding scalp with the same hand, I'm sure he thought I was off my rocker. "Are you finished, ma'am?"

I looked down at the whiny cow and nodded, "I think so."

He stepped closer and bent over to look down at her milk sack. "That'll do." He stood then and smiled at me. "Miss Beth, why don't you go inside and get some rest, you look a little peaked. I'll come by at 5:00 and take care of the second round, okay?"

"Second round?" I looked up at him as we walked toward the wide opening. "I was supposed to do this twice a day?"

There was a long pause before he spoke and when he did, I could tell he was restraining a smile for my benefit. "Miss Beth, I tell you what, I'll come by everyday that Clark is gone and take care of the animals for you, feed 'em, milk 'em, muck up after them, whatever needs to be done."

"No, sir," I turned to face him out in the brightness of the overcast morning, "that's too much to ask, you have your own farm to run." Another thought occurred to me, "And I couldn't repay you for that."

His palms came up to halt me, "I insist. If Clark feels the need to repay me, he can help me with the seed run this spring, but clearly you need the help."

I could feel my shoulders fall at the relief flooding through me. "I think he'd be agreeable to that, Mr. Jacobs." I smiled.

"That's better!" He turned his cap backward on his head and stepped back, gesturing energetically, "That smile is worth it all! Get some rest, Miss Beth." With that he turned and marched back into the barn.

The moment I stepped into the home my husband grew up in, I caught my image in the hall mirror and nearly gasped. "No wonder!" I dabbed at the dark circles under my eyes and pulled the headband out of my unruly cowhide-rubbed hair. Eager to fall into my bed, I glanced up the stairs and yawned. My heart was already pumping hard, so, changing my mind, I walked into the living room and curled up on the couch, instead.

The whistle of the tea kettle whisks me back to the present and I glance up to the calendar. Two and a half weeks. I've gone through every scenario I could think of, but this time my heart settles on the feeling I can't shake; Clark has left _me_.

--


	2. Chapter 2

**to Nurse**

Stepping through the double doors, I feel pretty confident. Even though this is a new job, my new boss assured me at a private lunch that I would be responsible for only 3 patients. Contrast that to the 75 special needs patients per any given shift from my previous job, this mental hospital stint will be a walk in the park. Mr. Luthor was quick to point out my patients were completely bedridden, which would save my ailing shoulder. And if something did happen, the benefits are tremendous; the best package I've ever been offered.

I spent the day before going through the Human Resources process, waiting on the creation of an I.D. badge, signing confidentiality agreements and taking a tour of the building. I wanted to look in on my three angels, as I vowed to call them, or at least review their files and instructions, but Mrs. Luthor copped a too-busy attitude.

Hanging my coat in the employee lounge, I grab a cup of fresh coffee and go in search of my supervisor. To my delight, I find Mrs. Luthor in a great mood. She walks me to my station, points to my three patients' rooms and their monitors, and then sits me down with their files. "Miss Colleen," she pauses, "may I call you that?"

"Yes ma'am, that would be fine." I nod.

"Thank you, Miss Colleen, and you may call me Miss Lana." She looks at her watch and then frowns at me absently. "Oh, yes," her cool smile is back, "once you feel confidently brushed-up on your duties, you may engage after lunch. Very well?"

Since I agreed to 12-hour shifts, I'm very grateful the atmosphere seems so relaxed.

My first patient in B11, Jed McNally, has a very neat file, short and sweet. He was placed in the hospital with the illusion he could move under the ground like a mole or ground hog. He was comatose when he was brought in a year ago and has not regained consciousness.

My responsibilities will be ritual; sponge-bathing, checking and replacing ambu-bags and a weekly roll-over to discourage bed sores. His doctor keeps him fed through I.V. line and stomach portal.

Patient number 2 in B12 reminds me of my new boss, a young lady with long dark hair. Emily Dinsmore is a girl who thinks she can walk through walls, and will be kept "under" probably the rest of her life because she is a danger to herself and others when conscious. Again, the doctor feeds her through I.V. line and stomach port, and her file is neat and short, too. I will have similar, ritual work with her.

I shake my head as I close Emily's door and wonder if all my patients will be in the same condition.

Walking into B13 and seeing Clark Kendall, patient number 3, I notice immediately that things will be different. This young man, about the same age as Miss Dinsmore, has similar monitors and intravenous lines hooked up but there is a striking contrast here. The first thing I notice is this young man is strapped down and on a flat metal table with a simple modesty sheet, unlike the first two who had typical hospital beds complete with a pillow and blankets. He looks like he is in the middle of a science experiment.

Curious, I sit down in the corner chair to study this young man's file. He claimed at times during his life to be an alien with special powers. His physical makeup has a higher resistance to drugs; his doctor finds it difficult to subdue him when necessary, which explains the manacles. Highlighted in yellow is his physician's note, "regularly seems lucid, apparitions initiate without warning and include identity confusion."

Rising, I walk to the side of his 'bed' and touch the black canvas strap at his wrist. "So, what besides the usual should I expect with you?"

Mechanically, I pull back the hem of the sheet and wrap my fingers around Mr. Kendall's wrist to check his pulse. It is within normal range, but the texture of his skin under my fingers feels unusually rough and damp.

I don't need to study his wrist long to see that stitches were recently and poorly sewn over swollen and aggravated cuts, and then left unwrapped and open to the air. Grabbing a cotton ball and soaking it in alcohol, I clean his blood from my fingers as I walk curiously to the foot of his bed. With his legs uncovered, it's obvious his ankles have similar infected cuts and amateurish semi-closures. Downright appalled, I unveil his right hand to find the same condition, open and inflamed wounds. "What happened here?"

A monitor beeps. Looking up to the screen over his head, I'm not shocked to see his body temperature reading at 103.5 degrees F. But that there is no antibiotic serum hanging from his IV stand, further unnerves me.

A deep, nearly indistinguishable moan rises from his throat. The noise stuns me; I thought he was fully under.

Looking down, I see his eyebrows are furrowed slightly. Stroking his fiery forehead, I try to soothe, "You're not feeling very well, are you, Mr. Kendall?"

--

**Coming Up Empty**

My whole body wracks in a shudder. _I'm freezing_.

A hand brushes my face. "You're not feeling very well… Mr. Kendall?" The voice is unfamiliar.

Who was that? I need to… please.. "So cold…" Why can't I get more words out?

The hand falls to my shoulder. "Don't worry, angel… …antibiotics… _right_ up."

I can't follow… her…

The door closes softly. _Come back._

--

The phone rings, startling me. I lift my head from my hands, realizing I fell asleep over Clark's laptop, again. With my heart racing, I grab the phone from the table and yell into it desperately, "Clark?!"

"No, Beth, it's me." It's Chloe. "And no, I haven't heard from him, yet, sugar. How are you holding up?"

I look around the dining room of my husband's home, "Well, I'm not in a straight jacket or rubber room just yet. You?"

"I'm glad to hear _that. _I was hoping you'd like to join me on a certain Arctic field trip. Are you up to it?"

"Yeah, do you have Clark's crystal? I haven't seen it in awhile."

"No, I have something that works just as good. I'm halfway to your farm and should be there in an hour or so. Have you talked to Martha?"

"Yeah, last night. She was so depressed, Chloe. I tried to be strong for her, but I just couldn't. She's about ready to pull in some favors…" I take a shallow breath.

"Oliver hasn't found anything either, and those websites we found on his laptop were a dead end." She barks, "Hey, idiot! Are you coming or going?!"

"Everything okay?" I yawn, standing to look out the back window, for him.

"Yeah, I need to get off, though, the traffic is getting heavy. Don't forget to dress warm."

An hour later, I hear her signature Volkswagon beep. Opening her car door, I look in.

"Are you ready?" She asks, brightly.

"I, uh, definitely!" I take one more look around the farm, searching, and climb in, tucking Mr. Kent's old-fashioned metal thermos in by my feet.

Chloe licks her lips. "Is that what I think that is?"

"Fresh coffee and 2 cups!" I grin proudly. "Just the ticket after a visit to the North Pole, don't you think?"

"Ooh, you're _good_!" She maneuvers the Beetle through a complete U-turn to exit the farm. "I'll travel with you over Clark any day!" She smiles at me. "He never brings _anything_; not even a coat!"

"I know," Just hearing her joke so casually about him causes tears to burn my eyes. I hold my breath and swallow hard.

She eyes my hands wringing together and glances up at my face. I give her my best fake smile. Reaching over, she lays her hand on mine and squeezes gently. "I'm sorry, Beth, I didn't mean.."

"S'okay, Chlo-" I choke through my tight throat. "I juss want him b- back."

"I know," she releases my hand to dab her own cheek and keeps her eyes focused on the road, deliberately facing away from me. "I do, too." She whispers, brokenly.

--

The familiar chill and whirlwind accosts my face, cuts through my jeans, and I open my eyes. Chloe is already 5 paces in front of me, approaching Clark's crystal bank. "That wasn't any better than his crystal, ooh, I don't like that method of transport." My stomach flips over and I let my hand rub it a minute.

Chloe turns back and smiles at me then looks up to the ceiling of the 'ice palace' as she calls it. "Jor-El!" She yells into the silent snowy expanse. "We need to find Kal-El!"

She pauses and I tug my coat zipper up to my chin and walk up behind her, both eager and afraid for an answer.

"What have you done to him, Jor-El?" She asks darkly.

My gut twinges. "Chloe," I whisper, "I don't think accusation-"

"Jor-El!" She continues, ignoring me. "_Please! _Is he okay? Have you sent him to the Phantom Zone? Is he on a mission somewhere?" She swallows hard and squints up into the brightness, "Is he dea-?"

"Don't!" I pull on her, alarmed. "Don't say that, Chloe!" My stomach roils at the thought and I cover my mouth, holding my breath.

"We _need_ to know!" She continues as I run behind a large pillar. "We love your son, Jor-El, and if he's hurt somewhere, we need to..."

Dropping to my knees, I clutch my head with my hands and roughly expel my breakfast into the powdery snow. I can hear Chloe continue to yell and plead, but I can barely breathe as I choke out everything that was in my stomach.

"Oh gosh," Chloe's voice is right behind me. "Clean up on aisle seven, Jor-El!" Her hands are on me, pulling me to my feet. "Beth, c'mon, let's get you home."

"Sorry," I choke out between grunts and swallows.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she pulls out her octagonal key and looks up to the ceiling again, "Hey Jor-El, consider that our thanks for your _help_!"

The dark dampness of the cave soothes me slightly, but by the time we reach the opening, my mouth is filling with saliva again. "Hhhrk," I bend over the muddy grasses and expel some more as Chloe holds me steady and rubs my back.

"Geeze, Beth, are you coming down with the flu?" Her voice is shaky and I wince knowing that I'm grossing her out.

Taking a tissue from her, I wipe my mouth and nose and try to stand up straight to look at her, unsure. "I,"

Reaching out, she feels my forehead and then shrugs, "No fever, that's good. C'mon."

Riding in her car, I wrap my arms around myself and take shallow breaths. "Sorry, Chloe."

"For what?" Her confusion seems sincere.

I rub my eyes. "For cutting our visit to Clark's fortress short, I'd hate to think he was about to-"

She shakes her head, "Beth, I don't know how Clark has described his biological father to you, but if Jor-El doesn't want to help, he doesn't help." She swallows hard and tilts her head sympathetically, "He's yet to be a father to Clark."

I nod, wishing I could find my husband and hold him.

Not waiting for Chloe to kill the engine, I've got my door open and I'm nearly stumbling to get out onto the driveway. Shuffling weakly but swiftly up the back steps, I call out before I get the storm door open, "Clark?! Baby, are you home?" Making a full rotation, surveying most of the first level, I turn back to the doorway I just came in.

Chloe's expression shifts from sympathy to worry as she shakes her head, "Let's get you some tea, huh?"

--

**of Determination**

This is unacceptable. I have to find an order for antibiotics in his doctor's notes. There wasn't any mention in my file, but that was just background and probably not up-to-date.

Locating his clipboard turns out to be next to impossible, apparently, because it is _not_ where all the other patient boards are shelved. Mrs. Luthor is nowhere to be found, either, not even in the nurse's lounge.

Knocking on the doctors' lounge, I know immediately that I am stepping out of bounds, and on my first day. But it's imperative I find Mr. Kendall's doctor or someone in charge. There is a long pause and I step back nervously when the door finally opens. "Miss Lana?"

"Miss Colleen." Mrs. Luthor swings the door all the way open to reveal Mr. Luthor sitting sharply on a leather sofa. He smiles at me as his wife steps up to a mirror to adjust her mussed hair. "What's up?" She eyes me through the mirror's reflection.

I acknowledge my highest boss, "Mr. Luthor, I'm sorry to interrupt." He nods and I turn back to my supervisor. "Miss Lana, one of my patients has an infection and I can't find his chart or any order for an antibiotic."

She sighs loudly and glares, "Are you a doctor, Miss Colleen?"

I nearly swallow my tongue. "Um, no ma'am."

She turns to face me and gives me a fake smile, "Yet you claim this patient has an infection." Her eyebrows are up for challenge.

Unfortunately, I'm not ready to do verbal battle and especially not in front of the man who hired me personally. I realize immediately that working for a married couple might prove to be idiocy on my part. "I'm sorry, Miss Lana, I didn't mean to presume, but he has open inflamed wounds and his temperature is already over 103." Glancing at Mr. Luthor, I notice he's watching his wife very deliberately, weighing her response.

Feeling the pressure, apparently, Mrs. Luthor points her finger, her whole arm, at her husband and pauses to take a short breath, "This is what I warned you about!" She steps across the room and ignores me as she slips past and walks swiftly down the hall, her slick black hair billowing in the breeze she's made.

"Ms. Joyner," Mr. Luthor's voice is right next to me and I jump slightly. "I believe this is not the doctor's regularly scheduled day to visit the patients here, but we will make sure he is called in."

"Thank you, sir." I swallow as he strolls casually down the hall in the same direction his wife went, his hands resting lazily in his pants pockets.

"Oh, Mr. Luthor," I can't believe I forgot to tell them, "the patient is Mr. Clark Kendall, room B13." He stops and faces me. "Sorry, he'll need to know so he doesn't have to check on all patients today."

A languid smile stretches his lips and he answers like he's unruffled, "Thank you, Ms. Joyner."

--

The antibiotics were hung and have been saturating his bloodstream for 48 hours. Except for a slight decrease in temperature, there's been negligible difference. I'm not a doctor, but I'm not sure he will survive.

Wringing my hands in the breakroom, I sit and stare at my coffee chilling before me. "Gah, Colleen, why does this angel mean so much to you?" I ask myself out loud and glance up gratefully to find the room empty. I always want all my patients to get well, I reason, but here my other patients don't seem to have any hope.

This one is young, but so is my angel, Emily. She is comfortable in her sleep and he is awake and aware yet given the least comforts. He doesn't even have a pillow between his head and the cold steel table. Shaking my head, I think, 'You've always had a heart for the underdog, Colleen.'

But is that all there is? Rising, I rinse my cup and head back to my station, vowing, "I will make this angel more comfortable, I have to ease his suffering."

Hours later, I swish my washcloth and squeeze out cool soapy water before wiping Mr. Kendall's troubled brow. Trailing down his neck and shoulder, I sing softly as my cloth slides awkwardly down his bound arm. "There's a life inside you. There's a beating heart. There's a child of wonder, shining like a star. There's a life inside…"

"Singing, Miss Colleen?"

I gasp lightly and turn to see Miss Lana step into the room, carrying a silver briefcase with her. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, I usually forget I'm doing it in front of my comatose angels."

She props the briefcase on the counter and pops the latches open. She replies, flatly, "Well, I find it unprofessional."

My mouth falls open in shock, I can't believe she really cares that much. "Sorry, ma'am," I start to apologize but as she opens the case, the thought flies away as Mr. Kendall's still body begins jerking under my hands and monitors begin beeping furiously.

Mrs. Luthor turns around swiftly with a confused frown on her face, wondering what I've just done to him, "I don't, understand."

Looking up to the electronic readouts, I see spiked heartrate, blood pressure and cranial activity. "Something is agitating…" I'm interrupted by his chest coming up off the table, convulsing and a deep moan escaping his lips. "Ma'am, should we call the doctor?"

"Help me with his restraints, Miss Colleen!" Mrs. Luthor spins back to us with a sharp knife in her hand. "Get a blade or scissors." Shakily, she begins hacking at the green-embedded strap over his wrist.

With his body jerking the way it is, I'm sure she's going to cut him, and deeply. But then, I reason, he's going to sustain injury from pulling so hard against the restraints, too, so I choose not to argue with her, she seems intent on a solution for his reaction. Grabbing a ten-blade from the packet on the counter, I lean with all my weight against his wrist uselessly so I can saw at the reinforced nylon strap.

As I completely cut through the restraint at his ankle, I jump back to keep from getting kicked. His body is slower and his breaths quieter. Checking the monitors, I realize he's not relaxing, he's shutting down. "Ma'am, please, he's dying."

"Miss Colleen!" Lana Luthor barks at me in frustration, then stands upright and hands me both straps from her side of his table and asks me, "Please get these out of this room and take them to my office. I've got it from here."

"But," I take the restraints and pick up my own.

She walks around his table, her heels clicking loudly, and wraps her arm around my back and soothes as she pushes me toward the door. "He's going to be okay, [i]thank[/i] you for your help." Her arm leaves me as I step into the hallway. "Take a much-needed coffee break, you deserve it." A smile stretches her lips for only a second and she disappears into my angel's room.

As I step away toward her office, I hear the lock click.

**Credit for song goes to Matthew West, _Life Inside You_.**

--

**that Support**

She checked her watch, "Are you ready? We need to get a move on."

Plopping my coat on the back of the chair, I turned to look at her. I could feel my hands wringing, "I don't want to go. I should call and cancel my appointment."

"What?" Chloe's brows furrowed and she touched my arm. "What's wrong?"

Panic was rising inside me, I could feel my chest tightening. "I don't know, it, it just doesn't feel right. I should wait here." I needed to look out the window, I needed him.

"Beth, stop it!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me back, her eyes were wide and angry, surprising me. "He's not _there_! He's," she choked on a cry. "He's never gonna be there! Do you hear me?"

"Chlo-" I couldn't believe she'd given up hope. It was like she just stabbed me in the heart. "Don't. Don't say that!" My eyes were burning and my throat closing. "It's only b- been a month and a ha-"

She swallowed hard and stroked my arms lovingly. "Sweetheart, he's not gonna be there, because he'll be _here_." She grabbed my hands and waved them wide, gesturing around us. "This is his home, _you_ are his home. When he gets back, and he _will_ get back, he will come find _you_!"

Tears flowed freely and a sob broke from my throat. "Oh, Chloe, I want him back so much. I can't breathe..."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me against her, and cooed in my ear, "I know, sugar, I know." Stroking my back, Chloe cried, "And you know what?" Unlocking her embrace, she pushed me back to look in my eyes, even though I couldn't see her through my tears. "He would want to find you well, and you're not."

She was right, and she calmed me more than she could ever know. Furiously brushing moisture from my eyes and cheeks, I nodded. "'kay."

"Okay?" Her eyes brightened.

"Yes." I choked out and smiled weakly, "Do I have to wait on you all day?"

She giggled, swiping her tears with her ring fingers, "Then, let's go!" Grabbing my coat and my hand, she turned and dragged me to our purses and out the door.

--


	3. Chapter 3

**with Advanced Purpose**

"Cla-ark." Someone is calling me… so far away.

My body jerks, not in pain, but in a shudder. I'm "cold."

"I know, are you feeling better?" A familiar voice coos.

Better? Have I been sick? I lick my lips and realize my mouth has been dry awhile.

"Here," A straw is pushed between my lips and without thinking, I suck on it, suck on it like my life depends on it. Cool water fills my mouth and I swallow, ferociously sucking in more and more.

"I don't know how you elicit such loyalty, you've been _comatose_ since she's been here."

"Lana?"

"Open your eyes, Clark, you're healing."

Lana and healing. It means only one thing, I'm still in the lab. Opening my eyes a pinch confirms my guess. There's a dull ache in my body and head, but not like it's been. Closing them again, I reach up out of habit and rub my forehead and eyes. The moment my fingers touch my face, I realize something is different and I let my eyes fly open all the way. Seeing my hands free, I sit up as fast as I can.

"Easy tiger," Lana steps toward me and waves a fist-size Kryptonite rock toward my face and chest. "You're not going anywhere. I just needed you to heal."

"So you can hurt me some more?" I wrap my free arms around my stomach at the pain filling me again, but it's a level I'm starting to get used to. Eying the room swiftly, I swing my ankles toward the edge of my table.

"Don't move, Clark!" Lana opens a briefcase on the counter and a wave of weakness assaults me. "I didn't want to pull the cord, honey; that's too messy."

I'm grateful, but unable to hold myself up any longer, I fold over to my knees and try my best not to cry out. Lana's hands push on my shoulders and guide me back to my prone position, the same position I've been in for months, I think. My head hits the table hard, "Ngh," I moan.

"Aw, c'mon, Clark, don't look so heartbroken. I seriously don't understand why you keep hoping you'll just be set free." She tugs my legs back to the table and straightens them and turns back to her briefcase. "Your new nurse has championed some comforts for you, and to that end, the most _interesting_ product has been rendered just for you."

I don't want to give her the satisfaction. I don't want to know what they made _just for me. _I don't want to see this room any longer. Keeping my eyes closed, I turn away from her and am minutely grateful I can roll onto my hip and curl up against the cold steel.

Judging by the sound of her shoes and the ripples of pain snaking into my back, she's turned back to me with Kryptonite. She sighs impatiently then tugs my arm toward her. "Well, I guess that's the benefit of this new bracelet." A cold metal band is wrapped around my wrist and then with much tugging and wriggling, is apparently tightened down to my skin. "Is that too tight, Clark?"

I tug on my own captured hand and can feel blood filling my fist. "Yes," I nod.

"Oh, yes, I can see your hand turning red, my bad." Some more wriggling and the band loosens slightly. Her heels click and then she tugs again at my ankle. "We had to hire a blacksmith to create these, Clark. Can you imagine that blacksmiths still exist? Of course," I can feel pain worming up my leg and arm at her tugging. "They're called metal workers now."

Tucking my head down, I try to ignore her, but I can still feel the tugging and return of the same old pain and weakness.

"Okay, Clark, I need that last wrist." She yanks on me, but I'm not ready to give her anything, I want to curl up here and die. A succinct weakness drills into my shoulder and chest and I hiccup for air as her hand pulls me over onto my back. "Geesh, Clark, you can curl up and cry like a baby when I'm done."

Opening my eyes, I realize she's right, tears are now running down my temples and into my hair. Blinking clear, I watch as she fits a metal band over my hand and, using a key similar to one used for a gas line on a fireplace, she twists until it tightens around my wrist. Like I expected, there's a sickening green glow emanating into the darkness of my room and into my body, throbbing to the rhythm of my heart. "Please," I choke out through pants for air. "They're too strong…"

"Too strong?" Her brow tilts for clarity. "Well, these are pure, but much more elegant. They're not just meteor gravel stitched crudely to nylon swatches; they're like fine jewelry. Aren't they beautiful?"

Stretching back onto my neck for more air, I smirk sarcastically, "Sh'd make cufflinks f' Lex."

"What?!" Her laugh echoes through the room, "You're hilarious! It's good to have you back, Clark." Her heels clack and I can hear the briefcase slide off the counter.

"Please," I beg, but she can't hear the whisper from my lips, I almost can't. All I can hear is my throat and lungs wheezing for air. My fists tighten and I can feel my own fingers digging into the skin on my chest. Eager for my new bracelets to knock me out, I take one last breath and look down at my chest. Of course! The bracelets are on my chest, too. Summoning some strength, I separate my hands and dangle them over the sides of my table. It's uncomfortable, but I can breathe again.

--

**of Terror**

Rolling over and stretching, I rub my eyes open. The bedroom is bright; I've overslept again. Thinking over my new medical condition, I can feel a smile stretching my own lips. _Stop, Beth, you need to get your husband back home, safe and sound. Worry about him, first._

"_Don't worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble of its own."_ A Bible verse pops into my head.

I close my eyes and pray, "Okay, Lord, I get it. But Lord, what about 'ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find'? I know I've been asking for him and not You, but Lord, please help us find Clark."

With no verse or apparent answer coming to mind, I throw the covers back and start my day. Stepping out of the shower moments later, I feel a familiar nauseousness; my stomach churning. A couple of dry heaves over the toilet and I can stand up straight again to grab some clothes. Hearing an engine cut off, I wonder why Mr. Jacobs is so late this morning.

Stepping out my bathroom door, I cross my bedroom floor and pull my clothes out for the day. A turtleneck looks too warm so I pull on my favorite jeans and a red plaid shirt of Clark's. I glance into the mirror and pick at the soft waves forming in my damp hair. Studying the dark circles around my eyes, I catch movement in the corner of my vision. Gasping, I turn to see a person dressed in black with a ski mask over his face, standing in my bedroom doorway, holding a long gun. I jump back and scream just as he fires the gun. "_No_!"

The masked man runs toward me as my hands fly to my chest, now burning like acid. His hand is on my shoulder so fast and I want to fight to get away. I try to move, to run, but numbness spreads through my bloodstream and I can't stay on my feet any longer. As my knees buckle, his other arm snakes around my waist and I find myself staring at his open mouth inside his tight embrace. "Please no," I beg him as blood drains from my head and my eyes close.

--

**that Comfort**

"Miss Colleen."

Seated at the stool at my station, I look up from typing notes into my computer and into Mrs. Luthor's face. "Ma'am, you look a little tired."

She pulls an errant lock of hair behind her ear and sighs quickly, "H'okay, Mr. Kendall is doing immensely better, but he is exhausted. Please do not disturb him," she looks at her watch, "until your next shift. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am," I release on a sigh. I can hear the disappointment in my own voice. "Are you off for the night, ma'am?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor and I have been very busy catering to your special requests. I think we deserve a night out, don't you?" Her brows are up in challenge, but she smiles coolly.

"Have a nice night, Miss Lana." I give her my best fake smile and hope she thinks I'm clueless to her little dig. I shake my head as her heels clack down the long hallway to the Luthor office. Working with the woman is like working with an injured pet, I'm always uncertain when she'll bite.

Clicking 'save' on my computer, I climb down from my stool and check my watch.

It'll be over 12 hours before anyone looks in on my special angel. "That's too long." Wondering if she completed any treatment notes or stats, I reach for Mr. Kendall's clipboard, and in the process, bump into the large bag I've stowed under my desk. Glancing down at my feet, my heart sinks knowing I'll have to wait.

Scanning the clipboard and finding no new notes, my mind goes over the conversation I just shared with Mrs. Luthor. She asked me to not disturb him… That doesn't mean I can't observe quietly.

Grabbing the handles of the large plastic bag, I check the hallway and walk toward Mr. Kendall's door, reminding myself that I have other duties with him that cannot be ignored until tomorrow morning.

Stepping into the quiet of his room, I push my backside against the door and turning slightly, I reach up and engage the deadbolt slowly. It clicks loudly, which makes me catch my breath. My heart is slamming in my chest even though I know I'm not really hurting anything and I notice for the first time an eerie green glow over Mr. Kendall's prone body.

Moving soundlessly toward him, I realize that even though his restraint straps are gone, there's nothing comfortable about his position. He's on his back, lying spread-eagle with his limbs dangling over the sides. "What happened?" I whisper as I approach him cautiously.

"Please." His voice is broken on a moan and as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, I realize his head is turned toward me.

"Oh, angel, I'm sorry," I cover my mouth at the tension marring his usually peaceful features. "I wasn't supposed to disturb you."

His eyes open for the first time and then widen either because he doesn't recognize me or he's happy to see me, I can't tell. He blinks a couple of times and tries to lift his head to get me to hear him better, "Help me."

"Just relax, angel," I stroke the side of his head, finding cool tears in his hair. My heart breaks knowing she did something that hurt him. "You'll feel much stronger in the morning. You just need to rest."

"You..." He swallows hard. I lift his arm and lay it back on the surface of the table. "Ergh, don't.." He throws his head back and begins choking on air like I've just stabbed him. The oxygen monitor begins beeping, noisily echoing through the room.

"Mr. Kendall, sir," I need the room to quiet.

His back arches and weakly his arm slides out until his hand falls back into mid-air again. Almost immediately, his breath rate slows and the monitor silences again. The only noise left is my heartbeat thumping wildly.

I don't know what to say to him as he begs pitifully with his sad eyes. The green on his wrist glows against my white jacket. He whimpers as I lift his arm again. "Shh, I'm not going to hurt you." I study the new metal bracelet on his wrist and turn to see green glowing from his ankle as well. Obviously, she traded the restraints for these form-fitting bracelets. "What are these?" I whisper to myself.

"They're k- killin' me." He pants after so many words. "I'm 'llergic."

This isn't my first day; I've worked in mental hospitals for most of my career. Even though my heart goes out to him, I know these patients will say anything to free themselves. They just don't realize they're better off. "I know it feels that way," I bend down to empty my bag. The plastic is loud as I pull out a cotton blanket and step to the end of his bed. Gently, I lift each leg and set them up on the table, noting that his breathing doesn't change in any way. Laying the soft fabric against his near-nakedness, I watch his reaction. "Does that feel better?"

He nods weakly. "Wha's yr name?" He follows me with his dark eyes.

"Oh, angel, I'm sorry, I'm your nurse, Colleen Joyner." I smile as I straighten the blanket over him, tugging it up to his chest. "But you can call me Miss Colleen, okay?" A weak smile stretches his lips and his eyes fall shut. Bumping into his dangling arm, I lift on his hand and stroke his shoulder to get his attention. "Mr. Kendall, are you sure I can't tuck your arms in under this blanket?"

"No," he blurts out fearfully. When I release his hand, he relaxes a little. "Kent."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"My name is Kent. Clark Kent." He swallows back roughly.

Nodding, I walk back to the bag and retrieve the last item. "Okay, angel, I understand." His brows bend as he reads my expression and instantly I can tell he knows I'm just placating him. His eyes close again and a tear slips out. I'm not sure why I'm feeling guilty, I know better. Touching his shoulder, I wait for him to look at me again. He doesn't. "Clark," I use his first name, it's not in question. "Don't be frightened, I'm just going to lift your head a second." I always warn them; there's nothing more painful than a patient's teeth ripping into your skin. When he doesn't react, I slip my hands under his head, feeling the thick wavy softness of his hair between my fingers, and lift awkwardly. Once his head is elevated, I grab a pillow, placing it under him. With both hands, again, I lower his head back to the soft surface. "How's that, angel?"

His eyes open sadly, but he smiles for me. "Thank, Ms Co'een." He chokes over the words.

He's good; never in my life have I been so moved by one of my patients. "Mr.," I pause, "angel," I lean over him and wonder if the green in his eyes is his or a reflection of the glow in the room. "I'm here to help you anyway I can, okay?" I say it out loud, "Just so you know, I will not be able to help you go home or get back to your own planet…" I choke at his eyes widening. "I'll be back in the morning and we'll see if we can't make it so you can sleep _with_ your arms, okay?" I smile softly.

He nods and blinks heavily. He lifts his head as I fold my bag and back up toward the door. "Ms Co'een?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Would you c- call a friend of mi- at the Daily Planet?" He pants.

A friend at the Daily Planet? Yeah, right. Will the manipulation never cease? I smile and wait for him to finish.

"Chloe Sullivan." His fingers reach for me and I move closer to give him a break. "I, she hasn't vis'ted me since I got here. I'm 'fraid she doesn't know where I was moo-ved."

His voice is dry and tired, so I grab the cup on the counter and offer him the straw. His expectant eyes close and his lips part. After the cup is empty, I set it on the counter and bid him a goodnight. "Get some rest, angel."

I watch as he turns and rubs his face softly against the pillow.

Backing out his door, my eyes fall to the blanket and pillow and I _know_ I'm going to meet Mrs. Luthor's wrath in the morning.

--

**Violent vs.**

_My head was throbbing when I woke and I couldn't figure out why my body was lying at such a back-breaking angle. Was I having a nightmare?_

_My stomach roiled viciously and I pulled myself off my hip and bent over the side of my bed to throw up. My abdominal muscles contracted violently as I choked out everything that was inside. Panting, I opened my eyes to see I was on a metal table, not my bed. Wiping my mouth, I absently looked at the contents of my stomach puddled on the floor; it was bright green. "Uh," I held my throbbing head as two high heels clicked into my peripheral vision._

"_Eww, that's gross, Clark!" Lana's angry voice filled the odd white room._

"_Sorry," I rubbed my forehead to ease the strange ache there as I sat up. Looking at her, I finally noticed she was wearing a white lab coat, her hair was pulled back into that tight bun-like style I always found unflattering. She had a clipboard in one hand and her other hand was tucked conspicuously in her pocket. "What's going on? Where are we, Lana?"_

_My insides continued to ache as she walked towards me. I was getting uneasy with my surroundings and the pain circulating in my system, so I slid my legs off the side of the table._

"_Don't move, Clark!" Her hidden hand came out of her pocket, revealing a glowing green rock in her grasp. "Just lie back down." I noticed her eyes were wide with fear even as my body started to fold in on itself. _

"_Kryptonite, Lana?" I didn't understand and I couldn't stay here a moment longer, my body was already growing too weak. "Why are you…?" I slid off the table onto my unstable feet and clutched my stomach._

"_Stop!" She lunged toward me, the rock held up toward my face. _

_I pushed her back, I had to defend myself. It was a small shove, but she tripped and bumped into the cabinets, dropping the rock and clipboard in an attempt to stay on her feet. When her angry eyes met mine, I knew she was okay, so I turned to get out. The rock was still too close and it made walking difficult, but the door wasn't far._

_I heard her shoes click on the floor and I glanced back to see her reach above the table and pull a white cord dangling from the ceiling. A loud hiss erupted around the room and a green mist billowed out and settled over me, burning my skin, my eyes. _

"_Lana, no," I gasped as I fell to my knees and suddenly my lungs were on fire. Like an idiot, I breathed in the green mist and then couldn't breathe any more as I fell onto my back, smacking my head on the hard tile floor. _

_Lana bent over me and looked into my face angrily as my chest bucked for air, "Thanks, now I have [b]two[/b] messes to clean up!"_

"Aah!" I wake with a start and open my eyes to the same torture chamber I've been in for weeks, seems like years. Pulling my hand up weakly, I wipe the sweat from my face and eye the white cord hanging over my head. If only I could fry that cord with my heat vision. Glancing toward the tinted window and the outside world, I realize that with just the use of my heat vision, I could get home. To Beth.

The door to my room opens and I ignore whoever it is, sure it's Lana for more torture. But the footsteps are different, so I turn from the window above my head to see a strangely familiar face.

"Good morning, Clark!" She smiles at me, her deep brown eyes dancing happily as she reads the instrument panel behind me and pinches my wrist gently in one motion. She pauses a moment, concentrating on my pulse, and then looks down at my face. "How did you sleep, angel?"

My arms are cold and asleep, as humans describe it, but I guess I got some rest. "Miss Colleen, right?"

"Yes, and if I may," she smiles shyly, "it really is good to hear your voice stronger, young man."

"You brought me the pillow, right?" I choke out, this woman seems like an ally and the emotion is tightening my chest. She nods and pulls out an electronic device. "Thank you, again, Miss Colleen. It's been months since I slept on a pillow."

She shakes her head sadly, but won't make eye contact with me as she rubs the rubber-tipped device across my forehead. Pausing to read the instruments behind me, she smiles lightly. "Your fever is gone, angel. Whatever Mrs. Luthor did to you yesterday seems to have done the trick."

"You know Mrs. Luthor?"

"Yes sir, she's my boss." She places her gadget back into her pocket and looks up to my eyes, finally. "You should know her, too, I hear from the other nurses and employees that she brought you here from the place that had to close down. And it was at her expense, too." She smiles proudly like I should be thankful.

I can't look into her happy face and not be happy, and that's something I can't be right now. "I don't belong here, Miss Colleen." She turns away, her eyebrows up in disagreement, and writes my stats in her clipboard. "I just wish there was something I could tell you so you'd under- understand."

She lifts on my dangling arm and I wince. "Sorry, hon, I guess it's sore this morning." She rubs across my forearm, trying to warm my skin with the friction she's making, and bends my arm at the elbow a few times, each time a little deeper.

With each bend, I can feel the same old pain rip into my chest at the proximity closing. "Please," I choke out, "The meteor rock is too strong, too pure.."

"Yes sir, I understand." She smiles at me sadly, protecting herself from my possible lies. "I'm just going to lay your arm next to you, okay?"

"No-" I'm too late. The pain rips into my hip and my whole body jerks at the proximity.

"Mr. Kendall, please!" She props her hands on her hips impatiently and tsks me. "That's enough."

She doesn't believe me. "I'm not strapped down," I pant, "I could get up and leave without these."

Her brows come together and she bites her lip. She looks up at my IV stand and mumbles softly, "There _is_ no drug going into your system…" She shakes her head, not trusting her own thoughts. "But,"

Hoping desperately for some credibility, I take a deep breath and choke out, "Watch the monitors, Ms Coll…" Summoning the little strength I have, I pull both arms in painfully and lay my hands and bracelets on my chest. The searing burns into my chest and immediately, I feel my lungs freeze and my heartbeat slow. Watching her eyes through the fog in mine, I open my mouth for air, knowing it won't fill my lungs. I have to hang on until… The monitors begin beeping loudly, but now I'm too weak; I can't move my arms away.

"Oh my.." Miss Colleen's jaw drops and my eyes slip shut as she reaches for my hands.

--

**Caring**

The monitors are beeping furiously and his eyes have closed. "Mr. Kendall!" I shake his arms and cup the side of his face. He's unresponsive and his heart is dangerously close to stopping.

"What's going on in here?!"

I can hear Mrs. Luthor barking behind me as I grab my angels' hands and pull them apart and away from his chest. "What have you done?" I wait and seconds later, air wheezes swiftly through his slack mouth and his chest rises and falls normally. His heart picks up its pace again. "Clark?"

"Miss Colleen! What has happened?"

"Miss Lana," I pant out and let go of one of his hands to wipe the sweat from my forehead and neck. "These bracelets, they are harmful to -"

"His bracelets?" She interrupts and walks to the far side of his table and takes his hand from mine. "They are harmless; yet they keep him sane." Her eyes widen angrily at me.

"Miss Lana, he, uh, _I_ placed his hands on his chest and he nearly died. Right here, he nearly died!"

She looks at him and back up to the monitors. "Is that what just happened?"

"Yes ma'am, I witnessed it."

She turns his wrist over and strokes the metal, "That's a shame, these are a work of genius." She looks up at me disappointed, "We'll have to put the awkward straps on him again, I guess."

I turn his wrist and look for a solution; I don't want him to be strapped in place again. "What if, could we just pry off a couple of these green links and make it less concentrated?"

Lana fingers a single link, twisting and tugging, "Maybe, but it's going to be a miserable job…" She pushes her loose hair from her head.

"You don't need to fuss, Miss Lana, I can pry these off fairly easily after I check on my other angels. How many do you think I should remove?"

"Start with one on each bracelet and we'll test his reaction again." She looks up at me, relieved. "Good idea, I'd hate for Mr. Luthor to find out his invention is useless." She shudders openly.

Is she afraid of her own husband? Looking down at my unconscious patient, I tug his blanket up and pray he wakes real soon; I want to see those green eyes again.

"Where did the blanket and pillow come from?" The ire is back in her voice.

"Sorry, ma'am, I couldn't help it; I hated to see him so uncomfortable. I brought them this morning." I fib as Mrs. Luthor looks at me with an eyebrow up in suspicion. I'm not sure why that frightens me, but I scramble to get away with it. "All three of my angels will be here for the rest of their lives; I just think they should all be as comfortable as possible."

Miss Lana seems mildly amused as she nods her head dramatically and stifles a full smile. "Very well, he can have them, just please run your ideas by me first in the future. Since he is meteor infected, you will not always be kept in the loop as to his treatment, and I don't want a 'clever idea' of yours to interfere. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I assure her and open his clipboard to write my notes in.

Mrs. Luthor leaves the room, and I take the clipboard to my station and search breathlessly through all of my drawers for some sort of prying tool.

--

**to Test**

My door bursts open, "Hey Clark!" Lana struts across the floor to my bedside. She tilts her chin, smiling, "My, you do look better; your color is back. That new nurse has been good for you."

Pictures of Miss Colleen's compassionate brown eyes pop into my mind. "Yes, she's nice."

She eyes my wrists and ankles. "Miss _Colleen_ was quite persuasive in getting you softer bedding and a change in restraints. I gather your new custom bracelets give you more freedom?"

Freedom would not include Kryptonite whatsoever, but I'm not going to go there. Still, I'm encouraged by Lana's mood. I take a quick breath, "So, Lana, what's on the schedule for today?" I pant slightly, "Same old torture or reckless freedom?"

She looks at me curiously before smiling, "Actually," she struts toward my door and locks the deadbolt. Turning back to me, she lifts the end of my blanket and folds it up to my knees before looking up, "We have a new test today, it's really very simple." With tension rising in my neck, I watch as she wraps and restrains my ankle with a simple Velcro strap.

"Lana," I swallow real hard as she reaches for my other ankle. "You know I can't," I jerk my free leg, but I can only drag it centimeters with the Kryptonite anklet on my leg.  
"can't fight you with the Kryp-" my voice breaks.

"Relax, Clark," she admonishes, tightening it down.

My heart races. I'm surprised I'm not used to these 'tests' by now.

"I know you can't fight me, but I don't want to get knocked over again, either." She smiles knowingly. Applying new sensory nodes to my scalp, neck and chest, she sighs and bends down to smile eagerly, her dimples showing. "I'm so excited, another individual has come to us and the results of your test today will give us insight into this new patient."

I tilt my chin at her words and her slip with 'us', "Another individual?" She pins my wrist down against the rail and straps it. My chest bucks in apprehension, "Huh- how _many_ people are you and Lex tor- torturing here?"

"We're not tor-, _Lex_?" Her eyes widen for a split second and she recovers quickly, "Lex has nothing to do with this facility. I've told you that before."

She moves to the counter without responding and opens a metal box. The fear is gripping me tightly now and I move my left arm to free my right again. Unfortunately, the Velcro is like a siren in this small room.

"Clark, please, give it a rest." She turns and plops a fist-size meteor on my chest.

My lungs freeze instantly and my stomach roils as I try not to scream. The pain is intense as she pushes each of my jerking arms down to the rail and re-secures them with the canvas straps. "Plsss," I push out through my lips.

She stares at my face with her hands on her hips. "Are you going to fight me again, Clark?"

Barely holding onto consciousness, I try to shake my head as hard as I can as I blink pools of tears from my eyes.

She yanks the rock from my chest and I can hear my gasp echo through the room. "Look," she drops the rock into its metal box. Turning back to me, she pauses to smooth her hair and pick up her ever-present clipboard. Reading the papers, she describes for me, "This test will be quite messy, but it is simple in its basic design." She looks up at me eagerly, "And it will yield profound data."

--


	4. Chapter 4

**up in Confusion**

"Mrs. Kent, it's good to see you awake. Do you know where you are?" A young woman seems pleased to see me.

I shake my head and am rewarded with dizziness. "No," I whisper with my eyes closed.

"My name is Lucy and you are at Smallville Medical Center. Ma'am, you've been here, unconscious, for two and a half days." A hand strokes my shoulder, "Do you remember driving yourself here from the abortion clinic?"

Violent images flash through my mind. _My feet are strapped tightly in stirrups…_

"One of our ER nurses found you unconscious and bleeding in your car, you'd lost a lot of blood, ma'am. The doctors had to give you a blood transfusion to keep you alive."

_A machine is wheeled between my open legs. The closer it gets, the more pain creeps up my legs_.

"I'm sure your abortion team didn't realize they nicked a bleeder. You were very smart to drive yourself here."

Abortion? _I'm screaming as a woman holds my hips steady and a man turns on a green light. More pain accosts me. I cry for unconsciousness._

"When we called, your obstetrician was very surprised to hear you chose to end your pregnancy, he was sure you were happy about having your husband's baby."

_I scream as the green light pushes into my vagina. The deepest pain I've ever felt sears through my abdomen. All my veins seem to carry acid through me, through every part of me. Help me!_

"Mrs. Kent, are you alright?"

Finally, panting heavily, I focus on my nurse. She looks concerned as she wipes moisture from my face and neck. "What…" All I can do is breathe and try not to cry out. "I was kid- kidnapped, I d- didn't want ah abortion. You 're lying, you have to be! No, where's Clark?!" She has to be lying!

"Ma'am, you need to calm down." Her hands are on my shoulders, pushing down. "You've been through a great deal, but you need to understand that rapid blood loss, transfusions and medications used to stabilize you are all documented accelerators of violent dreams and sometimes hallucinations. Your doctor worried about that happening." She pumps up the blood pressure cuff on my arm.

I am so confused. "But they're so real." I can feel my brows furrow and hear my thin voice as it trips over my panting. I'm still numb and unsure, so looking into her eyes, I ask quietly, "You're sure my baby is gone?"

She tugs the cuff off my arm. "Yes ma'am, I'm sorry. You'll be achy for a couple of days…"

She keeps speaking, but I'm not hearing anymore. My baby is dead? Clark's baby? I can't think. Rolling onto my side, I clutch my tender abdomen and try to breathe through the sobs rolling from my chest. How could this have happened?

She strokes my hair and tucks my blanket. "You've got a friend outside, I'm gonna let her come in…"

Chloe bursts into the room, "I just found out, Beth, I'm so sorry!"

"Chloe," I choke over my words, "what happened? Do you know?"

Immediately, her frantic expression turns to quiet confusion. Eying my hold, she sits on a chair beside my bed, and looks at me with a sad 'how could you?' expression. Disturbed, she asks, "Are you okay?"

I close my eyes and tighten my lips together, letting my tears squeeze out. She knows, it must be true.

The nurse clears her throat as she enters. "Your doctor is discharging you, Mrs. Kent. I'll be back in a moment with your release papers." Smiling sadly, she exits the room again.

Chloe looks around the room instead of at me. "I tried for three days to get you on the phone. I couldn't believe I found you here." She sighs heavily and her chin falls to her chest. "Why didn't you call me before…?"

Unable to face her, I wipe my eyes, scoot forward and beg, "Chloe, would you take me home?"

She sits up straight, "Yeah, um, I'll get your clothes for you." Rummaging through the plastic bag on my nightstand, she pulls out my jeans and red plaid shirt. I watch her pause with the shirt, her fingers stroking the cotton. After laying it on my bed, she dabs tears from her eyes and whispers sadly, "I wish he'd come home."

Sitting on the edge of my bed 20 awkward minutes later, fully clothed and exhausted, I look up at Chloe as we wait for my nurse. Chloe tilts her head in consideration of my appearance and offers coolly, "Would you like me to brush your hair for you?"

My hair? I'm sure it's the filthiest, rattiest-looking it's ever been. I nod without looking at her.

Lugging my purse up to her lap, she digs through to the bottom, where my brush always ends up. A piece of pink folded paper falls to the floor just as she yanks the brush out. "Oh." Setting my purse down, she reaches for the paper, and with her reporter curiosity taking over, she opens it.

It doesn't look familiar to me, so I ask, "What is that, Chloe?"

Chloe smoothes the paper open as she eyes the text. Angry tears form in her eyes as she focuses on me, panting shrilly, "It's a receipt." I reach for it and turn it over as she bites out, "for services rendered. One not-so-neat abortion of Clark's baby."

My breath freezes as I try to focus my tear-filled eyes on the company logo, _GRANVILLE ABORTION CLINIC AND FAMILY SERVICES, Patient: Elizabeth Kent, Blood type: A+_. The paper slips from my hand as a sob breaks from my throat, "Chloe, I didn't do this!"

She picks up the paper and points at it dramatically, "Well, there it is in black and white. You did do this and I don't know if Clark," her voice breaks, "will ever forgive you." She dabs more tears from her eyes.

I fall to my side onto my pillow, curling up, "How _could_ I? I didn't want to give up his baby, I _wanted_ his baby …I don't know what happened." I sniff and wheeze over and over into my pillow until my abdomen aches. The physical pain is nothing compared to what I've done.

Chloe seems closer when she speaks again, "Then, _why-?_"

"Miss Sullivan!" Nurse Lucy interrupts as she walks in and speaks in quiet tones to my broken-hearted friend. "It's not going to do anybody any good attacking her; she's not going to remember the procedure." She pulls Chloe toward the door for privacy, but I can still hear her, "And she needs support right now, she's been experiencing delusional …" Her voice fades.

Moments later, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I open my eyes to Chloe's sad expression, "I'm sorry, Beth."

Tears burn the back of my eyes again at the sight of her, "None of this makes any sense, Chloe; I'm so confused."

She takes my hand, "C'mon, sugar, let's get you home."

--

An hour later, Chloe's arm is around my waist as we walk into the empty yellow farmhouse. Looking down at our feet as we cross the threshold, Chloe states for the third time, "I can't believe the hospital lost your shoes! That's so careless!"

I glance down at my bare feet as we climb the stairs to my bedroom and mumble, "Maybe they were bloody…" For the life of me, I can't remember which shoes I had on.

"Oh, eww," she growls and pulls her head to the side. "Didn't they say they found you in your car?"

"I wish I could remember."

She pouts for my sake, "I'll stay the night and we can go back tomorrow and get it from the hospital parking lot." She shudders, "I wonder if we'll need to take plastic for the seat." Stepping into my bedroom, Chloe pauses, "Okay, what do you want to do? Do you want to lie down, change or take a shower? If I were you, I'd be washing hospital cooties off first."

"Oh, eww." I try to mimic her with little energy.

She grins with her teeth showing, a sweet smile. "You gotta love me!"

I take a deep breath and pull from her grip, "A shower."

"Okay, I'm going to go downstairs and make some lunch. Are you okay on your own?"

I rub my abdomen, a habit I formed before the, well, the loss. "Yeah, I'm just a little achy, I can do this."

"Excellent." She grins again. "Maybe we can perk up this gray day."

The shower was wonderful, thoroughly cleansing in more ways than one. But as I dry myself off and step out of the bathroom, I feel more and more tense. The room is the same it's been since I redecorated it, and remembering the hilarious sight of Clark super-speed painting the walls doesn't even soothe my senses.

Shaking my head, I cross the room to the closet. Leafing through my jeans, I get the weirdest feeling of déjà vu and I can feel my shoulders rise in panic. "Stop it, Beth," I tell myself, _that was just a dream, a nightmare_. But I continue to hold my breath as I dress and fluff my hair in front of my dresser mirror. Standing upright, I catch out of the corner of my eye a person standing in my bedroom doorway. I scream and even as my arms come up to cover my eyes, I can see it's just Chloe. But my knees buckle anyway and I fall to the floor, crying, "Chloe!"

"Oh, god, Beth," her hands are on me. "What's wrong?"

"I was attacked here in this room days ago." I pant hysterically, "A man with a mask on his face came in and shot me and kidnapped me!"

"Oh, she was right." Chloe's hands go to my waist and she helps me stand, "Here, sit on the hope chest. Shh, that's it."

My mind is racing at the vividness of memories and a few minutes later, when I can breathe easier, I ask, "What did you mean 'she was right'?"

She pulls her arm from my shoulders, "I don't know if I should be telling you this, I don't want to frighten you." She bites her lip, "But, the hospital's nurse Lucy told me you might experience some terrifying flashes or delusions."

I rub my temple. "Chloe, she told me the same thing, but this, this felt so _real_. It seems like yesterday, I woke late, took my shower and when I was finished dressing, a man came into my room and shot me."

She shakes her head and I don't blame her. "I don't know that this is healthy…"

"Chloe, I remember him grabbing me, I can still feel his arms around me, and I couldn't fight him, I was fainting."

"Beth, please, maybe you need some lunch and then some rest." With her eyes wide with worry, she stands and crosses the room.

"And the burning in my chest," Without thinking, I touch my chest and I'm surprised to feel a tenderness there. "Ow, that's sore." I look up at her, totally confused.

"Beth," she's losing her patience, "you can't be shot yesterday and only be a little sore today, think about what you're saying!" I have to satisfy my curiosity, so I open my shirt. "It's not logic-, oh my _gosh_, you've got a nasty bruise!"

"I do?" Standing carefully, I look at my reflection in the mirror. There's a deep purple bruise right above my right breast, right where I remember the burning sensation. In the center of that bruise is a tiny scab, like I was punctured. "Chloe, I'm even more confused now. I _know_ he shot me."

"A lot of things could cause a puncture like that, a thick needle..." She strokes my shoulders, "Your nurse said you nearly died, maybe they had to inject epinephrine or something to keep, well, keep you alive. And that might've set off a scary dream in your head, too."

I thought it was real. "Maybe,"

"Come downstairs, please, I'm starving. And stop this talk about a kidnapping, you're giving me the creeps!"

--

**Reaching for Help**

Stepping outside to get some air, I breathe in the cold eagerly. The pitiful wails coming from Mr. Kendall's room moments ago are echoing in my head, stressing me. This is a mental hospital of sorts so hearing cries in the dark is terribly normal, but when I couldn't open his door with my keycard, I knew something was wrong.

Mrs. Luthor told me once before, that when the door is locked to me, I will not be allowed access. Apparently, my keycard has lowest authority, just above the janitor.

Visions of his wrists on my first day here, with the cuts and cruel stitches, haunt me even more now. Is someone really torturing him, on purpose? And if that's true, then he might have been telling me the truth about himself all along.

Dragging my shoe along the concrete step, I roll my eyes. _I love this job! It was made for me_. Picturing Clark's tears, Lana's swinging mood, Mr. Luthor's capricious grins, I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders and think, _Maybe this job IS too good to be true_.

How do I go about helping him? Who was it he said to ask for? Someone at the Daily Planet… But that's too risky, if that notorious paper gets an inkling of what's going on here, this facility will be shut down and my angels will be lost.

My other two angels come to mind, both of them comatose or held comatose. What if they are healthy-minded individuals being held here against their wills? And that's only 3 of the multitude here, I'm not allowed past the doors on the rest of the floor or the upper floor. Who is in those rooms?

Looking back at the building where my angels lay helpless, possibly in their own torture chambers, I flip my phone open and dial for information. "Metropolis, Kansas, please."

A couple of redials and transfers later, a young lady answers the phone, "Sullivan."

My lungs hiccup at her voice. She's real.

"Hello, is someone there?" The voice is slightly annoyed, then mumbling, "Hmm, maybe the transfer didn't work…"

"Yes, I-, I'm so sorry," I stammer through, "Miss Sullivan, is your first name- ?"

"Chloe. Can I help you ma'am?" She interrupts me.

If she's real, then perhaps every word Clark has said is real. Shivering against the wind, I wrap my arm around myself. "Miss Sullivan, my name is Colleen Joyner, and I have to admit that talking to a reporter has me very nervous. Please forgive my stuttering."

Her voice comes through much calmer, deeper, "Let me assure you, Miss Joyner, that I cannot print anything unless you give me your permission, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am." I take another deep breath. "This is going to sound really strange, I'm sure. I work for a medical facility and, well, I have a mental patient here who claims to know you."

"A mental patient who knows my name?" A sarcastic comment escapes Miss Sullivan's lips. "Why don't I find that reassuring?" She chuckles nervously. "Maybe some mental patients actually read the paper…?"

"He says he knows you personally."

There's a pause and I can hear a squeaky door slam and birds twittering. "Okay, then, does _he_ have a name?"

"That's the problem. He claims we have his name wrong." _This is getting more and more muddy, do I continue?_ "Look, Miss Sullivan, I've worked in mental institutions since high school, so it feels strange to say I'm unsure that my patient is really delusional. That is THE most typical claim patients make."

"It's like criminals in prison; they all claim to be innocent?"

"Yes, anything to free themselves, I guess." I clear my throat, "So, I really hope I'm not wasting your time or mine with this call."

"Okay, since you have my attention, why don't you give me both names and I'll tell you if I recognize either. Does that sound fair?"

"Of course," I sigh, this girl is smart. Wrapping my labcoat tighter around myself, I turn away from the building like it will hear my secret. "His name is Clark Kendall, but he claims to be-"

"Clark Kent!?!" She's panting into the phone now. "Oh my god, tall guy, dark hair, physique from heaven?!"

"Sweetest green eyes ever?"

"Oh my god!" A cry rips from her throat.

Her emotion does a number on mine and I fight tightness in my throat. "Apparently you do know him."

"He's been missing for nearly 2 months! Where is he, please?" Sniffles come across the line loud and clear.

"I need to clarify before we go any further, does he belong in an institution like this or does he have um, a normal life?"

"Normal?" She giggles through her tears and then sniffles loudly. "God, yes, he's every bit as normal as you and me. He's my best friend, he lives on a farm, actually runs it, and is married." She gasps, "Oh, god, Beth!"

Cupping my hand over the phone, I step away from the building a little further like they might be able to hear her enthusiasm. "Miss Sullivan, this is scaring me. I'm not sure how to proceed. If I can trust you, and I don't see any reason why not, then he's being held here against his will and by people who seem rather cold-blooded." His screams echo in my head again. "I'm afraid he's being tortured."

She gasps and pauses. "Miss Joyner, I appreciate your situation, but, I need you to tell me the name of that facility."

I'm pausing now, my blood freezes at the thought of the Luthors. "The things they've done to him, Miss, they could be capable of anything. I'm so afraid."

"Miss Joyner, can you go back in there and pretend like nothing has happened until we can contact you again?" She sounds like she's panicking.

"Oh, I don't know," I turn nervously to look at the ominous building and nearly jump when I see Mrs. Luthor walking down the steps toward me, a curious look on her face. I try to keep my voice smooth as I continue, "I appreciate your call, Shirley, I'll keep your son in my prayers."

"Miss Colleen?" both women speak at the same time.

"Hang on a second, Shirley." I turn the phone to my neck and acknowledge Mrs. Luthor. "Is there something you need, ma'am?"

Mrs. Luthor points at my cell phone and I almost jerk back. "When you get off your personal call, Miss Colleen," the attitude is fully there, "your _angel_ needs a prompt sponge bath."

"Lana!" Miss Sullivan's voice barks in my ear and I try not to flinch.

"Very good, ma'am, I'll be right back in. I'm sorry for the personal call, my friend's son is fighting for his life."

Her hand comes up in dismissal, "I'm gone for the day; I've got a headache. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes ma'am." She doesn't suspect yet. I take a breath and try a little harder, "Oh, which angel needs the bath?"

"Of course," Mrs. Luthor plays with her keys as she smiles back at me, a warm smile. "Mr. Kendall."

"Very good, I hope you feel better." The young woman smiles weakly as her heals thump on the asphalt. Bringing my phone back to my ear, I sigh, "Did you get that, _Shirley_?"

"Good job, Miss Colleen, but don't get too confident, Lana Lang Luthor has many secrets up her sleeve." She takes a breath, "Oh god, what have they done to him?"

"Love Lost Sanitarium, Miss Sullivan, 331 Main Street in Eugene, Oregon." I step up the platform stairs, nearly out of breath. "I need to get back in there and make sure he's okay, I need to go."

"LL, of course, I've got it. Thank you, ma'am, for taking care of him, we'll be in contact!"

--


	5. Chapter 5

**Welcoming**

Curled up on the couch, I watch the television without seeing. Chloe got up to fill our mugs with fresh coffee and is nudging my shoulder gently. Turning, I see a steaming cup and a sweet but concerned smile on her face. "Thanks," I take the cup and watch her plop down in the "big man" chair next to me. Her smile fades as she checks her watch and then blows steam off her cup. "Do you have plans tonight?" My throat sounds thin and tired from crying, for what seems like days.

She looks at me like I may have interrupted her thoughts and answers tensely, "No, just restless, I guess." She sips her creamless brew and leans over onto her knees, checking her watch again before turning her gaze absently to the windows.

"Chloe, you don't have to babysit me. If you'd rather go visit that dashing blond hero of yours, I'll be fine. I'm heading to bed soon anyway."

Her eyes widen as she sits back and cradles her cup. "Actually, he may be on a fairly risky assignment tonight, so I'm a little nervous. I'm hoping he'll pop in here soon to surprise us, I mean _me_. You know?"

I sigh and put on a brave smile for her, "I'm sure Ollie will be fine and he'll probably call shortly."

Chloe's eyes lock with mine and in a split second, we communicate and understand each other's painful fears. "I hope you're right, Beth."

Twenty minutes later, we hear tires rolling in the gravel driveway. "Oliver!" Chloe nearly spills her forgotten coffee trying to quickly set it down and jump up.

As she runs to the back door, I sit up and kill the T.V. Gathering both mugs, I walk gingerly into the kitchen and kill all the lights except the one over the sink. Planning to give them privacy, I shuffle painfully toward the stairs.

The back door bursts open loudly and I wince at the noise, feeling sorry I didn't disappear quicker.

Chloe calls from the open door, "Beth!"

Not wanting to be rude and I have to admit I'm curious about all the grunts and groans, I turn to greet Oliver. The first things I see are feet, four of them and then six, and two of them are bare. Before my mind registers the length of those bare feet, I hear my name on a grunt.

"Beth."

I know that voice and my heart stops as my eyes follow those long legs up to a red blanket wrapped around broad shoulders. Even the adams apple is familiar to me! As my eyes meet his, I scream, "Clark!" My chest tightens, my abdomen jumps and I can't be still any longer. As I try to run to him, I watch his green eyes turn red and fill with tears. "Clark!" I finally reach him and wrap my arms around his ribs, unwilling to ever let go.

He moans and leans his head against my neck. "Beth."

Rivers of tears flow from my eyes and I let myself cry with joy that he's home. "You're home, oh, Clark!"

"I'm back."

"Beth," Ollie whines, "I hate to break this up, but we need to get him upstairs."

Clark groans again and for the first time I realize he seems a little thinner and he isn't hugging me back because Ollie and Chloe are propping him up with his arms over their shoulders.

Releasing my vice grip, I step back and offer my assistance; I really don't want to let go of him. "Here, let me help."

Chloe wails at me, "Whoa, I've got him, Beth."

Watching them stumble across the room, I notice Clark's skin is eerily pale and there are dark circles under his eyes. "Where have…? What happened?" I stutter, unsure what to ask first. "Why are you sick, Clark?"

"I'm sor-." Clark chokes out as he walks gingerly between his friends.

The silence is frustrating as I follow them up the stairs at a snail's pace. Even Chloe feels it, "He was kidnapped, Beth, and Ollie was finally able to locate and "steal" him back just today."

Oliver adds, "He was being held in a facility in Oregon."

"What kind of facility?" I can feel my spine chill, "Oh, Clark, they know your secret, don't they?"

At the narrow bedroom door, Oliver takes a firmer hold on Clark's waist, "I've got him, Chloe."

Chloe turns to me, planting her hands on my arms. "The important thing right now is he needs to get well."

My stomach turns as I ache for what they might've done to him.

Oliver lowers Clark to my bed and squats in front of him for a second. "Do you need help from here?"

Clark's head tilts and I move toward my long lost husband, stopping and turning to Chloe at the last second, "You _knew_ what Ollie was doing today, didn't you?"

Her shoulders fall, "Yes, and I know what you're thinking. Please understand, I was going to tell you what I found out, I was just waiting to hear back from Ollie first." She smiles her thanks at Oliver as he leaves the room and then looks back at me, "I would _not_ have kept this from you." She looks me in the eye with a tearful grin, "He's home, Beth, he's finally home!"

Feeling satisfied and loved, I smile and turn to kneel in front of Clark's knees. He takes my hands in his and I beg pitifully, "Sweetheart, can I help you lie down?" Looking up into his gaunt face looking down into mine, I can feel my tears start up again.

His voice is thin and drawn as his dry lips form words, "I need some water, please."

"Okay," I whisper over the lump swelling in my throat. Forgetting about my empty and hurting womb, and as I move to stand up, a sharp pain rips through me and I fold toward the floor instead, holding my breath.

Chloe volunteers from behind me. "I'll get it!"

"Beth, what's wrong?" Clark's hand squeezes mine, stroking.

The pain passes and I'm left panting. Straightening my back, I reach up for his face and ignore his question. "I am SO glad you're home, you don't know how much I've worried and missed you."

Undistracted, he pulls my hand down to his lap and takes a shallow breath, "You don't look well." His fingers stroke the hair from my face. I've missed his touch so much.

"Here you go, Clark." Chloe holds a glass to him. "I'm so happy you're home and looking forward to you feeling better the minute the sun rises tomorrow." Grateful for the interruption, I stand carefully and when he's finished, I take Clark's empty glass, giving it back to Chloe. She smiles and volunteers, "I'll bring some more shortly."

"Thanks." Turning my attention to Clark, I run my fingers across his cheek and through his hair. "You look so tired, baby..." My chest hitches and tears flow again. "Here," I hold his head and help him maneuver to a prone position, agonizing at his stiffness and winces of pain. Leaning onto his pillow, I smile at him and kiss his lips tenderly.

He wraps his arms around my neck and whispers, "Stay, please. I need you." Because of the angle, another pain rips through my abdomen and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. He hears my breaths cut, though and his brows furrow even more than they've been. "Beth?"

"Clark," I grunt out and cup his cheeks, "I'm never letting you out of my arms again, okay? I'll be right back."

--

**Hold for Slumber**

I nod at her and she rises and limps toward the bathroom with her arm held strangely at her waist. My head is pounding and my body aching, but I catch a look on Chloe's face as they meet coming and going.

Frowning, Chloe touches her arm lightly, "We're staying the night, so call downstairs if you need us."

Beth nods but shuffles quickly to the bathroom and closes the door.

Chloe brings the refilled water glass and sets it down on my nightstand. Sitting on the edge of my bed, she rubs my arm lightly, "Oh Clark, we've been so worried about you. And now that we know what happened, we were right to."

"Chloe," I have to almost whisper over my tight throat, "The way they kept me from moving… I couldn't get better between the…" I look up into her eyes, "I didn't think I'd ever get home again."

"What did Lana do to you, Clark?" Angry tears fill her eyes.

"Lana," I close my eyes for a moment unwilling to talk about the _tests_. "I want to hear the minute Oliver finds proof of that, that torture chamber onto her and Lex." A thought occurs to me, "How _did_ you find me?"

She clears her throat, "Well, Ollie will have more specific information, but your nurse called the Daily Planet looking for a Chloe Sullivan." She smiles wryly, "I think she was trying to convince herself that you belonged in that cuckoo's nest."

My nurse's gentle brown eyes come to mind and I smile softly, letting my eyes fall shut, "Miss Colleen..."

The next thing I know, Beth is climbing into bed with me. The room is empty of visitors, the curtains at the window are open and only her bedside light is on. She's breathing erratically and sniffling like she's been crying as she slides under the sheets. I offer my arm and she lays her head on my shoulder, cuddling up against my ribs with her arm stretched over my chest. "I'm sorry I woke you." She whispers.

Turning my head to smell her hair, my eyes close in the tender closeness. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, I'm so glad you're home safe and sound." She takes a deep settling breath, but it catches and ends up pretty shallow. "How are you feeling, baby?"

"I feel like I could use a long dose of sunshine." My head is pounding and the room spins occasionally. I stroke her arm gently, "But I could live like this forever just being with you. You're the best medicine ever."

Beth tilts her face and kisses me, her lips brushing against mine tenderly. Her breaths suddenly freeze and she pulls back, tears falling down her cheek onto my neck. Her voice comes out warbled, "It was the longest most terrifying 2 months of my life." She takes another shallow breath, sniffling loudly, "And my life was probably a _breeze_ compared to what you went through." She pushes her face into my collarbone and cries softly.

With my heart shattering, I strain to comfort her, crying out, "I'm so sorry, I worried about you every waking moment. I would never leave you on purpose. You know that, don't you?"

"I know, but I had my moments…" She sniffs.

Pulling my hand up, I cup her face while I squeeze her with as much strength as I can muster. "I love you."

"Oh gosh, Clark!" she wails, making my head throb, and pulls my hand off her face, up into the light. "What's, how did you..?" she strokes the skin on my arm, avoiding the long swollen scars. "What happened to you?" Her voice fades like she can't speak the words.

I sigh loudly at the memories of stinging scalpels and custom kryptonite-laced bracelets. "I'm too tired to talk about it tonight, sugar, please." I reach over and put out her lamp.

She tilts her face to stare into mine and finally relaxes into my neck again, "Of course, baby, you're sick and exhausted." She tucks my hand under hers and pulls her knee up, settling her leg heavily between mine. "I love you, too."

At my favorite sleep position ever, I smile wearily and kiss the top of her head, sinking heavily into my pillow.

--

**Home Within These**

The sunshine is blocked this morning by heavy storm clouds, leaving our room chilly and subdued, mirroring our circumstances. I can feel its healing powers, but it's slow, seeping into the surfaces of my body.

Rubbing my eyes open, I look around my parents' room. It's different now with Beth's touch; painted in a soft blue with white trim. There are pictures of us mixed with paintings of lighthouses being sprayed by large ocean waves, and a new plaid comforter on the bed to keep us warm.

Us.

She's breathing next to me, her face is turned toward me on her pillow and her arm is wrapped around mine like she won't let me go. Her brows are furrowed slightly and her skin is pale with dark circles under her eyes. But her shiny hair is tangled around her neck and her perfect lips are barely parted.

_She's beautiful._

Unable to stand it any longer, I shift toward her and wrap my arm around her, letting my hand glide down her back and rest at the hollowness above her hip. At her soft scent filling my senses, I drag her sleepy frame against me, watching her lips until they blur in my vision.

I'd like nothing more than to have her body wrapped tightly around mine as I bury myself inside her, but neither one of us slept well, I heard her tossing and crying out in the night. And just being with her is all I need, for ever. Settling back, I rest my head on her pillow with my lips against her warm forehead and allow my eyes to close once again.

Beth's breaths stop and she physically stiffens in my hold. "Clark, we can't." She sits up slowly, grunting as she moves my arm off of her.

"No, sweetheart," I sit up beside her and touch her shoulder. "I just want to hold you, nothing more."

She pauses and pulls her thin robe over her arms. "I'm sorry." Awkwardly, she rises and crosses the room toward the window. I can see her mind is reeling even as her hands rub life back into her forehead and cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Pulling my heavy legs out of our bed, I rise and wrap my arms around her. "Talk to me."

Pulling out of my embrace, she stares out at the angry sky. Her voice is small, "I can't believe I got used to sleeping with the curtains open." She turns to face me without looking at my eyes. "The entire time you were gone, I never once closed them." She shakes her head, unbelieving.

I lean on the window frame, waiting as patiently as I can. I know she needs time to talk herself into telling me what's on her mind.

She surveys the scenery of our farm and shrugs into it; the overcast daylight making her blue eyes glow. "The sky is so dark and gloomy again today, when will the sun show itself?" Her lips purse together and I can see moisture filling her eyes.

"Beth, please." I beg her.

She finally faces me, wiping away tear tracks that have already formed down her cheek. "Clark, so much," she takes a breath, "so much happened while you were…" Her lips pinch together.

I wait and then finish her sentence for her, "While I was gone." Now, it's my turn to look out the window, I am so angry I couldn't be here for her.

"Please," she steps toward me, her eyes wide with fear and her hands reaching for my arms. "And none of what happened was your fault, okay?" Her eyes search mine as her hands slide down my arms and grab onto my hands.

The fear and sadness in her eyes cuts my soul and I restrain myself from wrapping her up in my arms and protecting her from what she needs to bear. I just look into her eyes and wait; it's the hardest thing I have to do.

Her eyes shift to the floor, "Actually, one was," she shakes her head and focuses on my hands in hers. "This is so hard to say." She rolls her eyes in frustration and takes a cleansing breath as she looks up to me again. "I got sick and Chloe made me go see a doctor; I was pregnant." Her shoulders fall and she searches my eyes for comprehension.

Pregnant? My thoughts race to everything. _I got her pregnant? She's carrying my child? I can get a human pregnant? The child will be Krypt-_

"Clark," she chokes out, pulling my hands up to her chest, "I was nearly 3 months…" Her words break off as she sobs into my hands.

Without a thought, I pull her into my embrace and instantly wince at the power of her sobs, the brokenness of her spirit being poured out into my chest. Stroking her hair and her back, my thoughts race some more. _Isn't this a good thing? I'm going to be a father? Why is she so distraught at carrying my child?_ "Sweetheart," I pause and replay her words. She said she _was_ pregnant. "No, Beth." My chest seizes and my limbs stiffen.

"I'm so sorry, Clark," she whimpers into my chest, her fists seeking a hold. "I'm so sorry; I wanted that bab-, your baby with all my heart."

She pulls back and looks into my eyes, they are riddled with guilt and I can't school my expression to be compassionate. I'm still reeling with the first news. I know I must look like deer in headlights and I hate it, I don't want her to think I blame her.

"I didn't want to do it, Clark; it was out of my control." She wipes her face and grips my wrists. "Please say something!" Her eyes are begging piteously.

I pull back from her, I don't want to, but I need to think. She whimpers and buries her face in her hands. "Wait, so you're saying you were pregnant? With my child? And now, you're not?"

She nods with her lips pursed and wraps her arms around herself.

"What happened?" And then I remember the way she held herself the night before like she was in pain. Now I'm panicking, "Did the baby, was the pregnancy, did you miscarry because it was _my_ child?" Fear grips me painfully and she's the one looking blank, now. I take a breath and ask as calmly as I can, "Can humans really carry Kryptonian…"

"NO!" She leaps at me and cups my face in her hands, "the baby was fine, I was fine." She takes a breath, "At least I thought I was fine." Her hand flies to her forehead, her eyebrows are crinkled in confusion.

"Beth, I don't understand." I didn't miss this chapter in Health class, so I'm more confused than she is.

She pouts and looks me straight in the eyes, "I don't either. I was so hap- happy that I was carrying your child and then I woke up in the hospital yesterday and they told me I had," she chokes up. "I had an abortion."

Abortion? That word conjures up many things, but the biggest is _choice_. I need to concentrate and study her to get the truest meaning, though, and all I can read in her expression is guilt. Tears spring to my eyes so fast even I'm surprised and I gasp quietly, "You chose this?"

Her face contorts pitifully and she falls to the floor, holding her stomach and sobbing into her knees. I hesitate, torn between wanting to cry with her and wanting to never see her again. Did I really not know her, after all? I've shattered her; she's crying her heart out and all I can manage to do is back up.

There's a banging at the door and Chloe yells from the other side, "Clark? Beth? Is everyone okay in there?"

Beth's wailing halts and she lifts her reddened face to mine. I can't do this right now and I speed into some clothes and open the door to Chloe's wide and questioning eyes. "Cla-ark!" Beth screams my name.

I turn to Chloe and brush past her as gently as I can and yell over my shoulder just as I break into super-speed, "We are _not_ okay!"

--

"Ple-ease!" I can't quit crying. I couldn't explain to him what happened. I don't know what happened. And he's gone.

"Come on, Beth, let me help you up." Chloe's hands squeeze my arms, "You told him, didn't you, hon?"

I let her help me, but I can't catch my breath, I can't, "You were right," I blurt out as she pulls me into her arms. "He'll never forgive me."

"I was wrong, Beth." She strokes my back, "Clark was wrong. Give him some time to think this through, he'll be back."

"Where's Clark?" Oliver pops his head in the bedroom, his eyes wide in urgency.

I hide my face against Chloe's chest. She shrugs against my frame, "I have no idea, Ollie. What's going on?"

"I just got a call from my surveillance guys; they have video we need to take a look at." He sighs loudly, "I really need to find him."

--


	6. Chapter 6

**Helpless**

Standing in the middle of a horse stall, I rake and rake until all the muck is relocated to the wheelbarrow behind me. After dropping new straw, I take a break and lean on the handle. Unable to make myself think and unwilling to feel pain, I wonder who's been caring for the farm, it's actually pretty clean and the animals are healthy.

"Clark." I heard her footsteps before she even stepped inside the barn.

"Chloe, I don't want to talk about it." That's the last thing I want to do. Turning to see her, I find her expression is pretty calm. "Look, you've had time to process what she did…"

She interrupts with a wave of her hand. "No, I haven't." She leans against the wall between us. "I just brought her home from the hospital yesterday, just hours before Oliver dragged your sorry butt home." She clears her throat and dabs her leaking eye.

I knew she would get on my case; can't she see how this hurts me?

"Did you let her explain _everything_?"

Turning to face my rake again, I shake my head.

She continues without a beat, "Did you know she nearly bled to death from the abor-, the procedure? She spent 3 days unconscious in the hospital trying to fight her way back from the trauma."

Tears form in my eyes; I had no idea. "Okay, I'm a heel. Are you happy?" I turn to face her, proud of my so-called apology. "It doesn't excuse the fact that she had the," I swallow hard, "the abortion in the first place, does it?"

"No, but you could show her some of that Clark Kent compassion." She waves her hand at me. "Or did Lana effectively strip that from you?"

That hurt. Trying not to splinter the rake in my hands, I walk out of the stall past her, and take my time hanging it up on its hook.

She follows and sighs heavily behind me. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what you went through in that, that facility." She touches my arm tentatively.

My chest was already tight from the memories and now Chloe's apology. I turn to look at her sorrowful golden eyes and my voice comes out husky, "It was a _lab_."

Her face screws up and she wraps her arms around me, crying. "God, Clark, I'm so sorry." I stroke her back and try not to remember as she sniffs. "And that it was Lana must've made it that much more painful."

At the mention of that name, a wave of tension overwhelms me and I swiftly and carefully pull out of her embrace. Running my hand tightly through my hair, I walk away, putting some distance between us. "And Lex," I growl out, "I know I heard his voice in my room."

She sniffs loudly, "What do you mean _heard_? You didn't see him?" She walks past me and turns back. "Did he speak through an intercom or something?"

Her curiosity is piqued now and I really don't want to get into it. I swallow hard and give as little detail as I can through clenched teeth. "I couldn't open my eyes at the time, I was sick with fever. He promised to get me some help." My old friend promised to help me.

"Fever?" She shudders openly.

"Yeah," I answer to keep her from asking more, "that's when Miss Colleen came. She saved my life, Chloe."

She swallows and looks directly into my eyes. "In more ways than one."

I nod silently. Miss Colleen's deep coffee eyes and gentle smile flash through my mind. "Chloe, did she get away okay?"

"You mean from _Heartless House_?" She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, Oliver told me he moved her to one of his rescue clinics. She's fine and relieved that you're safe."

I can feel my shoulders relax a little and I manage a deep breath. "Thank God."

Chloe's hands come up between us. "So, I don't want to know about any King Solomon stuff, but did Beth sleep okay last night? The house was not peaceful."

Her question surprises me; we're back to Beth again. "Actually, she didn't sleep well at all. She cried out frequently like she was having a nightmare, like someone was attacking her."

"You need to talk to her, Clark. She's been saying strange things _outside_ of sandman land, too," At my raised eyebrows, she continues. "Her nurse at Smallville Medical Center warned us that she would have horrific nightmares and maybe some delusional memories from all that her body went through."

Trying to picture Beth cringing alone in our bed, her eyes wide with fear, tears into my gut. I close my eyes and sigh heavily. "I don't know how to face her."

She comes at me again, "I know, but she went through a lot, too. She needs you."

I open my mouth to whine again when Oliver steps into the barn and barks loudly, "Chloe's probably right, but you have something more crucial to do." He stops with his hands planted on his hips, his eyes wide with anger.

The tension rises in my chest again, "Ollie, what is it?"

"I've been trying to find you. My crew collected and downloaded video surveillance footage from Oregon. Apparently, the Luthors forgot about their own video cameras in their haste to vacate early."

I can feel my fists tightening. "Did they find evidence of either Luthor…?" I don't know how to finish that sentence, not out loud.

He knows what I'm asking. "No, Clark, not with you. Yours was the one room the cameras were found open and empty." He pauses and I can feel my blood begin to boil. "They _have_ found footage of other meteor-related patients."

Chloe pipes in eagerly, "Well, that's good though, that way Clark's secret stays secret. We'll find what we need, I'm sure of it." She's happy, but her mood isn't swaying mine.

"I've watched some," he rubs his fingers tensely, "And I can't watch anymore, not for awhile anyway." He turns to Chloe who looks at him with worry in her eyes, "Sweetheart, would you download the next few files for Clark to study?"

"Sure," she grins at him and quips as she moves toward the barn door. "Watchtower is on duty!"

Oliver is holding something back; I'm not sure why Chloe didn't say anything. I step close to him and lower my voice, "You haven't found anything to pin on them, have you?"

His eyes pop up, like I've just interrupted his thoughts, "Actually, there's enough, way more than enough, really. But they were very careful concealing themselves in what I've seen so far. There's no way to prove, _yet_, that it's them."

"I'll find something." I assure him with my fists clenched. I want nothing more than to stop them from doing this to anyone else.

--

_I can't breathe. My insides are twisting in excruciating pain, my stomach is roiling and ready to spew. Thinking about what I ate last is distracting me. Yes, think about anything but this "Grrrah!" Am I about to die?_

_There's relief suddenly. My mouth flies open for air and I turn to my side and pant shrilly. _

"_Just relax, Mrs. Kent," there's a hand on my shoulder. "You need to keep up your strength."_

_What is happening to me? Forcing my eyes open, I'm blinded by rows of fluorescent bulbs lining the ceiling. Where am I? A young woman wearing a surgical mask is adjusting my IV lines. Oh, thank you, God, I must be in a hospital. "Please, help me." My voice comes out strained and dry, but I think she heard me._

_She must've, because she's turning to face me. Her eyes are piercing into mine and her face is hard and cruel. "We're gonna help you, Mrs. _Kent_," she averts her gaze behind me, "Okay, she's ready."_

"_What's wrong with- _aaah_!" The pain is back in my legs this time and I can't keep from rolling and scooting away from it. "Please, it hurr-rrts," the pain rips up my thigh, into my hip and toward my ribs. Peeling my eyes open, I'm blinded again by a green light right over my chest and I can't breathe. My lungs are frozen, I've got my mouth open, but I can't pull in any air. _

"_Interesting," a man's voice fills the air coolly. "It's actually inhibiting normal body function."_

"_Please," I whisper, the p and s sounds the only sounds coming from my lips. My vision is fading._

"_Her lips are turning blue, Lex." The woman speaks._

"_Okay." He bites out with aggravation._

_Instantly, my lungs open and I can hear my gasp echo in the room. Panting harshly, I open my eyes to see the man holding something behind his back. What does he have?_

"_I wonder," his voice is curious._

_I can't take anymore. "Please, stop," I try to speak when my throat paralyzes as the roaming pain returns and moves up my throat and tears into my head like a hot knife. My eyes slam shut as I turn my face into my pillow. "God, let me die."_

"Beth?" It's Clark's voice, quiet and soothing.

_Clark, help me! I try to cry out, but the crackling in my skull takes me fully to darkness._

--

**Tied**

"How is she?" Chloe calls up the stairs from the dining room table just after I get our bedroom door closed.

I shake my head, unsure of what to do, and step down heavily toward the main level. "She's asleep."

"Thank God!" She stands from the table and moves to fill a couple of mugs with coffee. When she sees me sit down at the laptop, she yells from the kitchen, "There are about 10 different clips in the file that's open, Clark." Stepping up behind me, she hands me a hot cup. "I'm pretty sure the file names correspond with the room numbers."

"Thanks." A few sips and clicks later and I'm staring at black and white footage of a man on a hospital bed who appears to be choking. The door to his room opens and two nurses enter; one checks his pulse while the other applies an oxygen mask to his face. Moments later, the man is peaceful and the nurses exit the room. "Okay, well, that was useless."

"Yeah," she nods knowingly. "Oliver's reapers sent footage specifically filtered to find two medical personnel in a room. Anything less or more specific was not forwarded." She sips her coffee. "But, they'll store everything in a vault in case we need it."

"Okay, let's try another room." Nothing incriminating shows up in footage of rooms C8-12. I sit back in my chair and wonder if this isn't a waste of time. "Nothing."

"C'mon, these aren't that long; it'll only take a half hour or so to go through the rest." She nudges my shoulder and stretches her limbs noisily. "We'll find something, Boyscout."

"Fine." I click on C13 and instantly I'm on edge. There's a female in a hospital gown, lying still on a metal table. She's hooked up to every imaginable monitor or IV line and her head is covered with a surgical cloth. Two figures sporting surgical masks and lab coats enter the room, one retreats to the corner and the other, a dark-haired female in clacking high heels approaches the prone figure. My chest tightens and I moan, "Chloe."

"Yeah, I'm betting that's Lana." She leans against my arm to see better, and points to the figure in the shadows on the screen. "And that's gotta be our Boy Wonder. Look, I don't see any hair sticking out from under that surgical cap." We watch as I press _play_ again and she shrugs, "Well, that's definitely not you on that table."

I sigh deeply, "I _know_ that's not me, there are no Kryptonite cuffs."

I can feel Chloe gasp and focus on me, "Geeze, Clark, how are you alive?" I don't need to see her to know she's unpleasantly shocked.

Keeping my eyes on the screen, I see both figures moving around as a large block lowers from the ceiling, directly over the patient.

_The Lana look-alike waves her arm, "Okay, stop it right there."_

"I don't know what that is, but our Alexander is holding the control mechanism." She points to a shadow I can barely make out in the man's hands.

I swallow, "That block looks like it's made out of steel. What could they be up to?"

"And why is her face covered?"

"_Wake up, ma'am, I need you to push for me." Lana shakes the sleeping figure._

_There's a grunt and her arms jolt, her head jiggles slightly._

_The distant male voice calls out, "She needs more stimulus."_

"_Hang on!" Lana barks toward him._

"Ooh," Chloe shudders, "that's definitely our Richie Rich couple!"

I ignore her comment; everything about this scene is bothering me.

"_Urmph," the victim begins to struggle as Lana waves Lex on to lower the block, her hands jerk about sluggishly, trying to get a grip on the steel. "Help me, get it off!" She's gasping for air; the stiff fabric sinks in at her nose and mouth. _

"_I uh, I'm trying, it's heavy; I need you to help me!" Lana nods at her accomplice, "Twenty-five more."_

"She lied, I guess we know why her face is covered now." Chloe grumbles.

_The steel block lowers even more and the young woman screams, her head turning to the side, the backs of her hands push feebly against the metal surface._

"What are they doing?" Chloe asks frantically, "Why would they crush her?"

_The monitors in the room beep furiously, indicating a rise in everything, heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen depletion_.

"They're killing her." I run my hand through my hair, wishing this was a live feed so I could speed in there and help the poor girl. "Ergh, I could move that block with my little finger," I growl.

"Geeze," Chloe pulls back into her chair, "Now I know why Ollie needed a break."

"_Puh-lease," the victim chokes out weakly. _

_Lana stoops down to study the situation and rises again to wave Lex off. Her tone is sarcastic, "I guess we can rule out his strength."_

_The block begins rising, the hum of the pulley's motor does little to drown out the victim's relieved and gasping cry. "Tha-, thank you." _

Despite her rescue, my chest won't relax; this is all too familiar with the torture, the metal table, and the helpless pain-filled reactions.

"Shoo! I'm glad that's over." Chloe picks up her empty mug and stands to get a refill.

_Lana moves to the bedside, blocking the camera's view, and lifts the surgical fabric from the woman's face. "Mrs. Kent, are you okay?!"_

I can feel my heart leap and my lungs gasp for air. "No."

"What name did I just hear?" Chloe's panicked voice calls from the kitchen.

Unable to hear, I lean toward the monitor and turn up the volume. I can't breathe; it can't be.

_The young woman squirms in discomfort. "What happened?" The voice is slurred, but familiar._

_Lana shrugs, "I don't know what happened, ma'am, we think you fell out of your bed…" She grabs the IV lever and pushes it up; her movement unblocking the camera's view._

My heart stops.

"Beth."

_The footage continues as Lana moves away from the bed altogether. Beth lies there, touching her forehead, looking stricken. "Why am I here?" The last word slurs into nothing and her eyes slide closed, sending her into unconsciousness._

I pause the video and wrap my arms around my stomach, rocking back and forth. I can't believe what I just saw, **who** I just saw.

"Is that Beth?!" Chloe walks in behind me and sees the final frame frozen. I can feel her hands on my back as I shake with anger. "It is, isn't it? Oh my god! They were doing all those things to Beth? Why-?"

Unable to sit any longer, I push away from the table, causing my chair to squeal on the hardwood floor, and stomp toward the picture window across the room, cradling my throbbing head.

Chloe sits in my vacated chair, "When did this happen?" I can hear the high-speed clicks on the keyboard and mouse and then nothing. What is she seeing? She stands and has her hand on her chest when I turn toward her. She's pointing at the computer, "The date stamp on this was 2 days ago, Clark." She takes a breath and I clench my fists in anticipation of her next words. "Clark, she was in that facil-, that Oregon lab _with_ you. God," tears form in her eyes as they widen in shock, "She wasn't at the hospital like we were led to believe."

Chloe moves and keeps talking about "that nurse" and "what was her name" but I can't do anything. I can't growl, I can't jump into super-speed; I'm frozen. And I can feel my heart shatter. My wife…

"Clark!" I glance up at her as I pace in front of the window. At the look of anger on her face, I stop and brace myself. "Beth was _sure_ she'd been shot and kid-"

A heart-breaking cry fills the quiet house. "Beth!"

--

_A woman's boisterous voice fills the space around me. "Interesting wardrobe choice." _

_I can't get my eyes open._

"_Lana, remember…" A male voice calls from a distance._

_She yells back, annoyed, "Get off my back!" _

_I take a deep breath and force my eyelids open. My vision clears to see a young woman with long black hair standing over my bedside. Bed? Where am I? My head swims, "Why am I sick?"_

_She strokes my shoulder, "Sedation affects some of our patients negatively, I'm sorry, but…" _

_My eyes roll closed and I force them open again. Am I in a hospital?_

"…_and now that you're relaxed, we'll be able to complete some tests…" I'm having trouble keeping up._

"_Tests? You need to…" My dry lips close, frustrating me._

"_Yes, just routine before the actual procedure can be performed."_

Wait_. My head swims again, and I force words out. "'m pregnant."_

_She smiles as the room spins around me, "Yes ma'am, we know. That's why you're here."_

--


	7. Chapter 7

**Healing**

"No!" My eyes open to my bedroom and I realize I've been dreaming. My chest pumps for oxygen, my heart is shredded; I can't take any more. Trying to sit up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed when suddenly the door to my room bursts open and Clark appears on his knees in front of me.

His hands and eyes are held up to me. "Beth, are you okay?"

I can see regret and sadness written all over his face as I wipe the tears and sweat from my own. "Oh Clark," I fall into his arms and cannot control the new freely-rolling tears. His hands hold me securely as I lay my weary head on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I didn't want any of this to happen. I just wanted you to come home." I slide off the bed into his embrace as he stands, holding me up off the floor.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he sniffs loudly as he buries his face in my hair. I can feel his chest convulse against mine as he subdues a sob. His large hand slides down the back of my hair and down my back as he pulls me tighter against his chest. "I'm s- so glad I'm home." There's a growl to his words and when he pulls back I can see a redness to his skin.

"Clark, what's wrong? Are you in pain?" My chest tightens with anger again at the torture they put him through.

He shakes his head; the tenderness is back in his green eyes. I can tell he's about to brush off what he was thinking. "Nothing, baby," he wipes my tears.

"Clark, don't," I unfold my legs to stand, "Tell me what you're thinking, please. I'm not made of glass, you know." His anger has turned to rage in me, I can feel my heart quicken as we both stand up straight. Instantly, the room spins, the floor tilts and my hand flies to my face. I can feel the blood drain from my head.

"Beth!" His hands are on my arms. "Are you, oh hon, your heart is racing-"

"Clark, uh" I swallow as my stomach flip flops. His arms wrap around my back and legs as he lifts me off my feet, against his warm chest. "Hi'm okay," I try to reassure him.

His brows are furrowed as he watches my face. "You're exhausted; you need to rest."

I can feel him start to bend and I know he's about to put me on the bed. "No!" my heart races some more. "I don't want sleep; please." Tears are forming in my eyes again and I hate it.

--

Her expression changes swiftly from tired frustration to wild fear. As I bend over, her hands fly to my shoulders and neck, "NO, Clark, please!" Her nightmares must be so vivid. I need to know what she's been dreaming, whether it's real or not.

"I just want to talk for a minute." I can feel her breath of relief against my neck. "May I set you down?" She nods against me, sniffling sharply.

Setting her gently onto the edge of our bed, I wait patiently against her as she slowly releases my neck, unwrapping her arms until her cool hands are on both sides of my face. Opening my eyes, I see her swollen lips open for air, desperate air. Her wet eyes memorize my hair, my face, my lips until finally she focuses on my eyes again. Tears fill hers and she chokes on her words, "I'm sorry. You're here with me again, I wasn't sure… Everything else," She smiles sadly, "was nothing, nearly."

My eyes fly to hers, "Beth," She silences me with a kiss; a kiss both gentle and the most despairing I've ever felt. Her hands sink into my hair and tug to keep me close, but I wouldn't pull away for the entire world. I bore my love into her for every minute I was without her; unable to touch or smell her, kissing her greedily. When she pulls back, I kiss her chin and clear my throat, "I missed you, too, every minute. There were days I couldn't breathe because I didn't know if you were okay, I wanted to die."

Her eyes widen at that, "Sweetheart, what happened in Oregon? What happened to you? How did they get you there?"

She has no idea the magnitude of what she just said, but I have to get to the bottom of her side of things. "Beth, do you remember what you were just dreaming about?"

Her brows crinkle in confusion and when she realizes I'm serious, she looks down at her lap and blows out a breath. "Oh, I _remember_," she gets up from the bed tentatively, passing me, and faces the window, "the doctors warned me, but I had no idea how real they would feel."

Getting more and more distressed, my insides cringe at her words. "Were they strange and nonsensical or clear and logical?"

"A little bit of both," her hands wrap nervously around her arms. "It was like I was asleep and couldn't get awake." Her head drops and I move in front of her, ready to save her. "Clark, the pain in one, it was like fire in my veins instead of blood."

"In your veins?" I'm confused.

"And the people around me seemed so callous." Her brows knit together angrily.

I can feel the heat rise at the back of my neck, my voice coming out deeper than I intended, "What did they do?"

Her distant eyes widen painfully as she continues, "And they sounded so familiar, but I couldn't see their faces. I couldn't get my eyes open. The pain was so excruciating, I begged them over and over to stop."

She reaches out and wraps her arms around me, tucking her face into my chest. Hating to ask her to remember more, I whisper, "Is that all? You didn't see anything?"

"It was strange, I thought I saw Kryptonite a couple of times. There was a bright green glow in the man's eyes as he held a perfect brick over me."

"Kryptonite? That _is_ strange." Now I'm more confused than ever. This does sound like her memories are getting crossed.

"Clark, when he held it over my chest, I couldn't breathe. It was like my lungs just decided at that moment not to work. I thought I was going to die, all I could see was red. The girl saved me."

Talking to her is like pulling a blanket over my eyes, I'm so puzzled. "What do you mean, she saved you?"

"She told him my lips were turning blue. I don't know what he did after that, but all of a sudden, I could breathe again. And the next thing I knew I was battling a raging headache, it came on so fast like someone flipped a switch."

Barely able to breathe normally through the tension, I ask quietly, "What did she look like?"

"She was pretty; with long dark hair and cold almond-shaped eyes." Pulling back, she looks up into my face questioning, "What's going on, Clark, why so much detail?"

--

He turns toward me and grabs my shoulders firmly, his eyebrows and jawline showing anger, "Beth, your nightmares, well," He pauses, then schools his face to relax, his hand coming up to cradle my cheeks as his eyes mist. "You're so pale, let's get you something to eat." His arms wrap around me and he pulls me against his massive chest, the heat of his body melting mine.

I'd rather stand here for eternity in his warm embrace, but I haven't eaten in nearly 24 hours and I'm starving. With his breath settling over my head, I nod into his t-shirt, "Okay."

He pulls back and I can see my reply has made him not so much happy, but pleased. "Are you okay to walk or do you need me to carry you?"

I smile at him, the stretching of my lips almost a foreign feeling, and turn to wrap my arm around his waist. "How about we walk together, Skywalker?" He smiles out loud for a second before his jaw tightens and his eyebrows fold. His pout is breaking my heart, "Clark?" Whatever they did to him, I have to find a way to help him heal.

Wrapping his arm around my waist, he smiles weakly, "Let's go."

As we walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs, we see Chloe and Oliver stand up swiftly from the dining room table, our moment of happiness swiftly vanishes. Both blondes move tensely; Oliver closes the laptop as Chloe shuffles papers into one stack. "Beth!" Chloe literally shakes her hands out as she walks toward me, then wraps her arms around me like she'll never let go. "It's good to see you up," she pulls back and studies my face.

Oliver steps close to our three-person circle and strokes my shoulder, attempting to clear his throat of huskiness, "How are you feeling?"

Everyone's loving attention is strong today, and I find it difficult to speak, "I'm okay, thanks."

Oliver and Chloe back up awkwardly, nodding approval. Clark breaks the silence, "She's hungry," I can feel his hand on my back. "We're headed to the kitchen." His words are slow and staccato like he's noticing their tension, as well, and is trying to read them.

Ollie's arm jerks out, "Oh, good, I'll help." He advances and then waits for me to enter the kitchen first. "I had my assistant deliver some goodies about an hour ago."

I follow his lead and we all step into the kitchen, single file.

"Clark, can we talk for a minute?" Chloe's voice is low and nervous. At his hesitation, she opens her mouth to speak and then takes a breath instead. Placing a hand on his arm, she rolls her eyes back toward the dining room and whimpers, "There's another C13…"

Clark sighs audibly and his head falls forward like he can't take any more weight from the world.

I'm confused and concerned. "What's going on?" Clark turns to me with his jaw tight, his eyes fear-filled. "What's a C13, baby?"

Oliver rustles noisily through the plastic bags on the kitchen table as Clark puts his hand up to me, "I'll be just a minute, Beth."

"Okay," I swallow back the tension building in the room. "You know where I am." Chloe's hand slips off his forearm and he turns and seems to drag his heavy feet as he follows her back into the dining room.

"Here," Ollie pulls down some plates and glasses. "Would you like iced tea, lemonade or water?"

Trying to ignore the ominous mystery, I engage Oliver brightly, "Is the tea sweet?"

Beaming his electric, dimpled grin at me, he touches his chest, "Am I Oliver Queen?"

Taking a glass from him, I quip, "_Today_ you are, tomorrow you might be some famous archer."

His eyes pop back up to mine, pausing, then he chuckles at my smile, "You got me there." He ducks his head in respect, "Yes, it's sweet."

"Great!" I hold my glass out for him to fill.

Several minutes later, Oliver takes our plates to the sink and starts filling another. "I'm gonna make a couple of plates for Clark and Chloe."

"Thank you, Ollie, you and Chloe have been so attentive and supportive." Knowing he likes it, I drag my nails lightly across his back as I step up to him, "And I owe you my life for bringing Clark home."

Oliver turns and grips my arms, "Hey, there's no 'owing' going on here, Clark's my friend, too. I'm just glad to get him home safe and nearly sou-"

We're interrupted by a strangled cry, and it's from my husband. "Clark!" I struggle out of Oliver's hold and he falls in behind me as I bolt to the dining room.

--


	8. Chapter 8

**of a Hero**

"No!" Her revelation finally sinks into my head, my heart, and my knees buckle. My lungs shriek for air and I suck it in loudly. Closing my eyes, I slump against the wall and fight the desperation to cry, covering my head with my hands. I lose the fight, a sob breaks free and my chest convulses over and over. I can barely feel hands on me.

--

"Clark!" I tug on his shoulder, his arms. He's shaking uncontrollably, letting the wall support him. "Baby, what's wrong, are you sick?"

I can feel Chloe's hands on my shoulders, she's tugging me away from him, "Beth, he's okay, give him a minute…"

But I won't let go of him, he needs help, "Clark, please, talk to me."

"Don't!" He yanks out of my hands, and his swinging arm hits the wall so hard the plaster crumbles back into its powdery form, settling on the floorboards. His green eyes search and widen when they connect with mine. I've seen that fear a hundred times. His voice squeaks out softly, "Don't, please," his eyes roll up in frustration and a pool of tears runs down his cheeks. Instantly, he's gone and the front door swings back to its frame.

"Clark!" When he doesn't reappear right away, I whip around to see Chloe crying in Oliver's arms, Oliver rubbing her back. Finding my voice, I accost them both, desperately, "What happened?"

"Beth," Chloe pulls from her boyfriend's arms and wipes away her tears. "There's something very important we need to tell you."

Oliver grabs her shoulders and barks, "Chloe, don't." He steps around her grateful frame, "Beth, my company recovered security camera footage from the facility Clark was being held in and he was reacting to some footage Chloe downloaded for me." Oliver's long fingers fold over my shoulders as he bores sweetly into my stricken face. "I've seen the tragedies myself, and he's going to need some time to forget, maybe even relive a little before he can heal."

I can feel my chest twist and fresh tears pooling just imagining the things he went through. I've got to ask, but all I can get out is a whisper, "Do you know what they did to him, Ollie?"

Oliver sighs heavily and pushes my hair behind my shoulder absently, "You need to hear it from Clark, he needs to be able to talk about it." He walks toward the picture window and looks out at the grayness, the ever-present stormy skies. "As your husband, it's his place…"

Looking at Ollie's back and then at Chloe's movements toward the kitchen, I can feel frustration build inside. The house is dark and for the first time since I moved in here, it feels too small. Reaching for the handle to the front door, I open it and pause to announce, "I'm going for a walk."

"Beth, wait!" I hear Oliver's shoes swiftly cross the wood floors behind me. I turn my head to watch him. "Here," he grabs his leather jacket from the footstool and opens it for me. "Please put this on." His dark brows furrow in the glow from the open door.

I can feel his worry and he's right; with my recent blood-loss and weakness, it would be too easy to get sick. "Okay," I whisper and place my hands behind me, at his mercy, letting him slip the jacket on.

The coat is heavy and the sleeves too long, more frustrations to my already aggravated state of mind. But the moment I step off the front porch a cold wind cuts across, blowing my hair over my mouth, and once again, I'm grateful to my good friends.

Even though the sky is dark and stormy, reflecting everyone's moods today, I am blinded by the brightness of it; it reaches into what little skin is left uncovered and releases my trapped soul. My tension headache dissipates as I look up fully into the horizon-to-horizon cloud cover and breathe deeply.

--

Returning to my farm, I stop on the far side of the horse paddock and lean against the fence. I do not need to be too close to the road and give the Luthors or their hatchetmen any eyefuls or cameras! I'm panting, but not because of the run I just had; the feelings of helplessness and rage are coursing through my bones. The jog to Love Lost in Oregon was a waste of time and only served to enrage me more to see where we were held and not see those responsible. Even my jog past the Luthor mansion was risky, but I needed to know they weren't there pretending innocence. Had I seen either of them, I'm not sure I could've kept myself from tearing their limbs from their bodies.

Knowing I need to refocus, I shake my head. The memory of Chloe near tears fills my thoughts. She reached for the computer and stopped when I pushed my palm out to her in refusal. I was unable to watch anymore torture on my wife.

"You're right," she sniffled and stood back. "You shouldn't see it, but you need to know," she paused, closing her eyes at the images assaulting her.

Inside, I could feel my chest tighten some more at whatever she saw. "What else did they do to her?" I begged for clarity, "I just don't understand what they wanted." What I knew then was just a drop in the bucket. And now?

The dark thoughts evaporate from my mind at the sight of movement across the field.

Beth is out walking, moving along the fenceline, her arms swinging loosely and her head tilted upward like she is pleased to be outside. Her reddish-brown hair doesn't shine in the gloomy light, but rather glows warmly against the stark grayness. She looks almost happy, too carefree after what they did to her. Has she finally lost her mind from dealing with me and all the craziness of my secret?

Climbing under the upper rails, Beth walks toward Trixie, my Palomino, and strokes her nose, her head and elegant neck. Her lips are moving. Tilting my head for better volume, I concentrate on her words.

"Yes, you're beautiful, I know, and Mr. Jacobs is taking better care of you than I did, huh?" She sniffs and wipes her cheek.

Trixie whinnies at the attention.

"You'd like to go for a ride today, wouldn't you?" Trixie nudges forward into Beth's chest. "I know, I wish I could." Beth's hand glides across her abdomen and her head drops. "Oh, Trixie, what could he be going through right now? How are we going to make our boy better?" She backs up and props her hands on her hips, the sleeves of her jacket covering everything but her knuckles.

Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I wish I knew what to say to her. Picking up my feet, I find myself outside the paddock, leaning on the rail right behind her as I breathe in her scent on the chilly wind. I call out to her, "I'm fine, it's you who needs to be better."

--

I whip around to see his green eyes looking gray against the dark sky. "Oh sweetheart!" I walk toward his sagging frame; I can't stop myself. There's always been something, and the thought intrigues me. "You know," I tease, "there's just something about you that always pulls me. I can't resist."

His hairline pulls back as his eyes widen, he wasn't expecting me to flirt with him, apparently. That's good, I like it when I surprise him.

My hands finally make contact with his hair; my fingers delighting in his soft, thick curls. "Your evil charms, they undo me." His eyes close and he swallows hard, reminding me he is still suffering. Leaning in, I pull his hair back and kiss his forehead, holding my lips there for a moment while I take a deep whiff of his scent mixed with fresh air. It's the most stirring scent I've _ever_ encountered and my eyes sting as my lips smile against his skin. My voice comes out shaky, "I needed this so much, thank you."

He pulls back and wipes his eyes as his hand strokes my arm, whispering, "Needed what?"

"To touch you, to smell you," I pause at the lump choking me, "to love you." I grin at him weakly and his tearful eyes search my face.

"How do you do that?" He plays with a lock of my long hair. "How can you smile right now?"

His question belies the pain we're both in and I'm suddenly powerless to keep my lips from shaking. I blink my eyes and pretend to see him happy as I try not to bawl, "You called me your hero once, I have to keep that image up, you kno-" My emotion overwhelms me.

He tries to smile, but his brows curl up pitifully as his hands slip around my neck and back, pulling me against him. His lips press into the top of my head, holding me as I cry pitifully into his chest. "You _are_ my hero. Even when you need to break down and cry, you're still my hero."

--

She stiffens in my arms and holds her breath. Her voice is cold as she mumbles into my chest, "Some hero I am." she yanks out of my embrace and backs up. Her eyes are disgusted as she raises her hands in warning to me. "I killed your bab-," she swallows, "I don't deserve your love."

It's time; I can't let her blame herself anymore. "No," I reach out to her.

She jerks away from me, stumbling backward in the uneven field, and struggles to stay on her feet. Her face contorts. "H'nguh," She moans, wrapping her arms around her middle, and folds over in pain, panting heavily.

"Beth!" I plant my hands at her waist to hold her steady, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she growls out and slowly stands nearly upright. "I think I need to sit down." The anger in her voice fades and her eyes lock onto mine, begging for my help.

My chest aches at her showing need for me and I lift her gently off the ground as her arm wraps around my neck. I kiss her head, "Hang on."

"No!" her whole body tenses and her voice calms, "Clark, please just walk." Her face pushes into my neck as I take my first normal-speed step.

I'd enjoy this so much more, this long walk with her in my arms, but she's winced in pain twice now. Why isn't she healing? As I approach the barn entrance, I wonder if I should unload what I now know onto her weakened condition. Will she be able to take it? But then, I remember the guilt she's carrying around and how debilitating it must be. Maybe that's what is hampering her ability to get well.

Setting Beth on a bale of hay, I back up and study her. Her heartrate has steadied and her eyes are clear and bright, not clouded with pain. Apparently the walk did us both some good. "You're feeling better." It's more a declaration than a question, but she nods absently as she watches me expectantly.

Her gaze is too intense, so I turn away, my defensive hands already apologizing, "I need to tell you something about that _place_…" What are the words? "But knowing now what they did,"

She fills in my pause, "What did they do to you, Clark?"

Ignoring her angry tone, I press on, "What they did to me is," I shake my head and try a different tack. Pointing to my chest, I turn to her and blurt, "_I'm_ okay." Please follow me.

She stands and turns away. "We didn't know where to look for you. Chloe found articles of international disaster on your computer, but,"

What? I swallow. So, my kidnapping was perfectly planned, first with the Kryptonite-laced coffee I drank at the Talon and now this, a clever cover-up story to throw them off for awhile.

"But you stayed away too long, you'd never do that to me, I knew that."

She's off the subject I wanted.

"I can't imagine how hopeless and in pain you must've felt with Kryptonite holding you there, and no way of rescue."

"The pain was the least of my worries." Grabbing her arm gently, I pull her to face me. "Sweetheart, I wasn't the only one held captive there." Her mouth closes and her eyes darken. "I wasn't the only one painfully _tested_." Lana's word induces acid in my stomach.

She tilts her head, "Oliver told me there were others, mostly meteor-infected…" I struggle to swallow and she freezes, her question coming out low and apprehensive, "Clark, what is it you're trying to tell me?"

"This is so hard to say," God, how did she get on her feet? "Do you remember that your nurse told you there would be violent nightmares for awhile after your procedure?" I nearly choke on the masked words.

She nods, "Yeah, and she was right, but"

I interrupt her, "Baby, they weren't just nightmares, they were memories."

Her chin pulls back and she squints her eyes, "Memories? What am I remembering…?"

"I'm saying, that stuff you're remembering in your dreams really happened." Her eyes drop, but her mouth still hangs open. "You were at that facility, too."

Her breath freezes.

"Chloe told me you remembered vividly being shot and kidnapped right here." I point to the house. She follows my finger and then steps back from me.

"No one believed me." I can only hear her whisper, no voice.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but that's what they wanted." She looks up at me with tears in her confused stare. "Don't you see? If everyone is told not to believe you, that your behavior is normal, then they'll get away with what they've done."

"But I wasn't in a facility, I was at Smallville Medical Center." Her head jerks, even she's not sure anymore. Her eyes stare blankly into the distance.

"Beth, honey, I need you to listen." She focuses on me, but her limbs hang limply like she's shutting down. "Oliver found video cameras…"

"He told me…"

"Well, Chloe and I watched them hoping to find evidence against the Luthors." I touch her hair and take a shallow breath, "We saw you." Tears burn the back of my eyes at the memory.

She backs away. No, don't. I reach for her and she guards herself, her eyes wild and unfocused. She whispers, "What did you see?"

This is going to be the hard part. Running my hand through my hair tightly, I take a breath, but she interrupts.

"Did you see me fall off my bed?"

"I saw them pretend you fell off; they actually lowered a heavy block over you to test your..."

"Shhh." Her eyes close and she turns her head. She talks to the horse field, "IV's keeping me sleepy…?"

Wrapping my arms around her, I can feel her whole body quivering. "Yes,"

"…locking stirrups…" Her voice breaks.

"Beth,"

"…hands touching my nakedness…"

I turn her to face me. "Stop, Beth, _please_."

"…Kryptonite probe tearing into me…" She screams and her fists pound into my chest. "Help me!"

"Beth, honey!" I scramble to keep her from hurting herself when suddenly her body goes limp in my hands. My heart breaks, "Sweetheart."

Trying not to drop her rigidless frame, I fight to get a grip and pull her up to my chest, knowing my fingers have probably bruised her in the process. Raising my shoulder to keep her head from dangling backwards, I pause and look at her motionless form. Her lashes lie at rest on her cheeks, her hair falls thick and silky over my arm and the redness in her flushed face is vanishing before my eyes. She's so peaceful.

The sky, however, has begun rumbling, so taking my time and holding her close to my heart, I walk my bride back to our home.

--


	9. Chapter 9

**That Sustain**

"Oh my God, Clark, is she okay?" Chloe greets me with wide eyes as the storm door bangs lightly against the wall.

"She's okay," I navigate Beth's body through the kitchen, cautiously, and pause to make eye contact with Chloe and Oliver. "She fainted." I move her toward the couch. Oliver cleans his papers off and places a throw pillow at the end. I lay her down gently, "She'll be mortified when she wakes up."

"Yeah, you're right," Chloe settles a quilt over Beth's broken body and steps back, staring. "It's been a roller coaster year, hasn't it?"

Her words fester inside me as I slide my Mom's rocking chair to the end of the couch, and plop down and stroke Beth's hair. I can feel my chest start to panic, "Do you think our lives will ever calm down?" I look at my wife's face, "Do you think she can take all this?"

Oliver thumps me in the shoulder, "C'mon Clark, I've got some food warming for you in the kitchen."

I look up at him through bleary vision; I'm so tired. I shake my head; I don't want her to wake up alone.

Chloe's fingers twirl my hair and I look at her. "Go," she orders firmly, "You need to keep up your strength." At my pause, she adds sweetly, "I'll sit with her."

--

Through the blackness in my head, I can hear voices. No, one voice. A girl.

"This is too familiar." She sniffs.

I try to open my eyes, but I can't.

She touches my hair. "I loved him once and I love him still. He's been more than a best friend and yet I'm having a clueless moment about what he's going through."

It's Chloe. I reach for her but my hands won't move.

"He's got so much more to tell you and it's going to hurt. We're all hurting for you."

She sounds so depressed. _Don't be sad, I'll be okay._

"He needs you." She snorts, "I need you. I need you to be strong for him." Her voice breaks and I can hear more sniffles.

"Strong..?" I can hear my own voice finally break through coarsely.

"Beth?" Chloe whispers.

Prying my eyes open, I can see Chloe bent over me. My vision is still cloudy, but I can make out tears flowing down her cheeks. I try to sit up and her hands fly to my arms.

"Slow down! Here," she props my shoulder as she tugs my legs forward so I can sit up easier. "Are you okay?" She focuses on my eyes.

Nodding, I look down at the quilt on my lap and smile groggily, stroking the worn cotton. "This is Clark's favorite."

She sits beside me quietly, "What, the quilt?"

"Yes," I smile, thinking about when he told me, "He told me about the day his super-speed kicked in for the first time."

She smiles with her brows knitted, "I've never heard that."

I nod and rub my eyes. "He found himself lost in the middle of the woods and when his parents finally found him, cold and alone, this is what his Mom wrapped him up in to take him home."

Chloe's hand caresses the soft fabric and her eyes tear up. She takes a deep breath, "Speaking of memories," she turns her body toward mine. "Do you remember Nurse Lucy?"

Those peaceful feelings vaporize and my chest tightens. "Of course, she was the first person to tell me I aborted my baby." The ugliness in my voice surprises me.

"Well, she doesn't exist."

Tired of the mysteries, I bark a little, "Chloe, you and I _both_ met her."

"I know." She nods vigorously. "While you were out exploring, I did a little digging. Smallville Medical Center has no record of her employment. In fact, the hospital has no record of _you_ being there." She shakes her head, and looks down absently, "Which makes sense, your nurse answered _your _cellphone when I called. Oliver's men are investigating, but with so little information, well, she could've been flown here from Timbuktu." She rolls her eyes in frustration.

Rubbing my forehead, I lean on my hand and barricade my heart for what's coming.

"We think the Luthors hired her to complete this charade, to keep us all blinded to their evil truth."

"Truth?" I pick up my head and swallow hard, "What is the truth, Chloe?"

"That the Luthors had you kidnapped and taken to their facility." Her face contorts slightly, "And I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Beth."

I draw up my knees and hug them, faking a smile. I can still feel the gunman's arms too tight around me and consciousness slipping away.

"The same facility Clark was tor-, held." She clears her throat and pushes on when she sees I'm not fainting, "Oliver and I believe that while they were testing you for Clark's abilities, they accidentally killed your unborn child." She searches my face with her worried green orbs.

_Killed my baby_... I hold up my hands to get her to pause, my insides are twisting as I remember my abdominal muscles contracting at the searing green rock being pushed all the way into me. Panting, I sit forward to distract my mind; I'm so confused. "Clark's abilities? But I'm human."

She touches my arm. "Not you, Clark's baby."

Clark's baby… My throat closes.

She shakes her head and drops the backs of her hands on her knees. "They were ahead of all of us on this; I could kick myself for not realizing it. Clark's baby could quite possibly be just like him."

Of course, that's why they were using Kryptonite. Clark's precious quilt wads up in my hands. Devastation overwhelms me. My mind reels with the possibility and I can form only one stupid question. "Why, what were they trying to find out?"

She grins wryly and stands as I try to follow her, "That's the oldest question in the book. Why do humans have this insatiable curiosity about things we don't understand?" She looks down at me, panicked and then squats in front of me, her eyes growing misty. "This will be hard to hear, but it might be a blessing that the baby didn't survive. If it had, they would've kept you until birthday, and I can bet you would never have seen that baby, _ever_." She pinches her shaky lips.

My breath freezes. My chest bucks.

"Unh."

Chloe and I whip around to see Clark sliding down the wall, holding his head. The desolation and hopelessness pouring off of his shaky frame stabs me in my broken heart like a knife. "Clark!" Rising from the couch, I cross the room and kneel at his feet; touching his knees. "Baby, please." I have to get through to him.

His knees fall open and I crawl between his legs and fall against him with my whole body, wrapping my arms around his ribs. Pushing my face into his neck, I breathe in his scent, his misery and let out the moan that's been building inside me since I woke in that hospital bed. His chest convulses against mine and his face pushes against my cheek.

We cry. Together.

Our baby is dead. With Clark's secret to pillage, the Luthors will never leave us alone. Slowly, his arms wrap around me and his warmth fills me, sealing the cracks in my soul. Clark. I have this amazing man that needs me to make everything right again. "Please, God!" my mind whispers.

--

"The Baby!" Beth jumps to her feet, leaving me cold in our bed. She must be confused about waking up here, hours later in the dark of evening. Shortly after Chloe and Oliver left, she fell asleep in my arms, so I carried her up here so we could both sleep.

"Beth, please, you need to rest now." I coo and hold my hand out to her, begging for her to come back to bed. She turns to me with her eyes wide, "C'mon, sweetheart, please."

Her fingers reach for mine and she kneels against the mattress, but touches my shirt instead. Her face withers again at the dampness she's found there; where she wept against me. As I wept.

My hand grips her waist and I tug at her to lie back down in my arms.

Her eyes shift and rest on my thumb below her ribs. I watch, too, wanting so badly to touch her stomach where she held our child.

Like she read my mind, she digs at my fingers to unclench them from her hip, then turns and drags it across her abdomen, flattening my hand against her tender flesh.

Her tears fall on my forearm, running and tickling at my skin, as we both watch our hands cradling her womb. "Clark," she sighs, but her feet slip, causing her to fall against my big hand. "Ngh," she moans.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Beth," but she's backing away again with that wild look in her eyes.

"The baby," she looks around the room uneasily and pushes her hands across her cheeks into her hairline, leaving it all tangled out. "We need to find our baby."

She's scaring me now and I can feel my own tension mounting as she paces frantically. Begging her to remember, "Beth, please," I rise and stop her movement as her eyes dance all over the room. Cupping her cheeks, she finally looks soulfully into my eyes, "The baby," I swallow hard, "sweetheart, the baby is dead." Tears fill my eyes at the sound of my own declaration.

"I know that!" She jerks from my hands and runs from the room and down the stairs. I'd pass her in super speed, but I'm afraid I'd knock her down. As my feet pound down the stairs behind hers, the front door opens and Chloe and Oliver step over the threshold, unaware that Beth is hoping for a quick exit. To my surprise, Beth runs to Chloe and takes her hands to her heart. "Chloe, have you found out where the abortion was actually performed?" At Chloe's wide eyes and delay, Beth shakes her hands, "Please, I need the address!"

Chloe stammers, glancing up momentarily at me for clarity, "Actually, we just came back from Grandville, and well, there is no abortion clinic by that name from your receipt, it doesn't exist. And the only clinic in Grandville has no record of an abortion on that date. Apparently, it was a slow day." She rolls her eyes sarcastically.

Beth isn't satisfied and she leaps toward Oliver, tugging frantically at his jacket, "Are your men searching the facility to find my baby?"

Unmoved to answer her, he looks up at me with his brows contorted in concern as Beth stomps away from him and begins pacing, her arms swinging widely. He asks pointedly, "Clark, _now_?"

Hoping to calm her down on my own, I nod lightly at him and step to the floor, moving to my wife. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I speak steadily into her wild eyes, "Beth, honey, I need you to sit and calm down for a minute."

"No," she jerks in my grip, "I need to go to Oregon." Her blue eyes beg mine, "Will you help me?"

I nod and look over my shoulder; Oliver is moving up right behind me.

Beth struggles to get out of my hands, but I won't let go. "Clark, _c'mon_!" Her eyes open bigger in panic when I won't move or release her, "We're losing precious time."

"Clark, I need a vein in her arm." Oliver speaks nervously in my ear and reaches out for a hold of her.

Beth sees him and screams, "Ollie, what are you doing?!" Wrapping my arm around her shoulders tightly, I thrust her forearm out to Oliver with my other hand, holding it steady and secure. Tugging over and over uselessly against my alien strength, she cries out, "Clark?!" Her eyes lock into mine, begging, as Oliver's needle sinks into her skin. "Agh," her body jerks at the prick of pain. Tears fill her heartbroken eyes and she whimpers, "Not you, too?"

My heart twists at her words and expression; she thinks I've betrayed her. Oliver moves away and I release her arm and try to find a gentle hold along her jawline. "It'll be okay," I coo but she's still too agitated.

She pulls her face away from my hand and tries to scratch at the skin on my arm, still trying to free herself. It feels like a lifetime looking into her betrayed and angry desperation, but in reality, only a few seconds before I feel the weight of her increase against me. Her eyelids blink rapidly to keep herself conscious and her hand on my arm changes from digging for freedom to digging for stability.

Chloe yells out, pushing against Oliver, "What have you guys done?"

Oliver grabs her, "It's just _Propofol_, Chloe, just a sedative."

With her full weight now in my hold, I watch as Beth's blue eyes slowly lose their focus. Her chest hiccups a little for air and her eyelids slip shut. Feeling her pulse and listening for her steady breaths, I can also hear Chloe struggling in Ollie's arms, "Oh God, is she still breathing?"

"She's okay, Chloe." I choke out without losing my watch on Beth's frame. "Thanks, Ollie."

"It was a small dose, Clark," Oliver explains sadly as Chloe pulls away from him. "My physician said she should remain fairly lucid."

Chloe glares between the two of us angrily, "You guys planned this? And didn't tell me?" She pushes her hair back tensely and storms away, growling, "Is there any liquor in this house?"

Oliver moves to follow her and I'm left holding my quiet wife, in the quiet of our home. Reaching down carefully, I lift her off her feet.

"C'ark," she rouses slightly.

"Beth, honey!" I whine to her closed eyes, grateful she's still aware. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes peak open as her head lolls against my shoulder, "The baby, we nee to…"

"I know, just rest, okay?" Her mind just won't release this train of thought.

"...nee to bury our baby." Her eyes close again.

Of course, I hadn't thought of that yet, that's what she's been trying to tell me all along, "You mean, in the cemetery…" The backs of my eyes burn at the picture in my mind, "…near my Dad."

"Yess," she whispers and a hint of a smile curves her lips peacefully. "C'ark?"

I hold her closer to my shredded heart, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Her voice slurs, "You wou… been the bess daddy."

I can hear my own gasp in the quiet room before my throat closes. Burying my face in her neck, I breathe in her drowsy scent and shed tears that I thought were already spent.

--


	10. Chapter 10

**Alive**

With the warmth of sunlight on my back, I gasp quietly as my blood rushes through my veins to heal me. Feeling the electric stimulation for the millionth time in my life, I smile drowsily at the miracle yet again.

Opening my eyes to our sunbathed room, I focus on Beth's sleeping frame facing me. Her hands are tight on my arm and her knees pulled up against my thigh, belying the kind of night she had once the sedative wore off; rough. With her nightmares keeping her mind and body tense, I'm not surprised she still looks tired.

Allowing her to sleep, I stretch my limbs and fall onto my back, letting the sun complete it's healing work that I lacked since my visit to Love Lost.

A hiss of desperate air slices the stillness and my thoughts evaporate just as I feel Beth's fingers squeeze my arm with an unsettling strength. Turning to her in worry, I'm surprised to find her lying there with a peaceful almost-smile on her face, the sunlight brightening her blue irises. The relaxation and calm in her whole demeanor warms me through and through. "Good morning, beautiful." I murmur roughly and clear my throat of huskiness.

She smiles wide, her teeth glowing in the brightness encircling us. "Good morning." She shifts toward me and I move my arm so she can get closer. Tucking her head gently into the cup of my shoulder, she lays her arm on my bare chest and kisses my skin. "I'm so glad you're home."

At her tenderness, I swallow back tightness in my throat and can hear my own breaths falter. "Me, too." I whisper.

She breathes deeply; something I haven't heard her do since Oliver brought me home. Oliver. He had breakfast and coffee delivered yesterday. I should get up and provide it for everyone. Kissing Beth's soft hair, I let my hand squeeze her hip and ask quietly, "Are you hungry?"

She takes a swift breath and her hand slides down my chest. "Mmhmm…" She moans sensually and turns her face and drags her lips tenderly across my skin. The warmth of her breath cuts across a trail she's left and I realize she's licking my skin. "I'm starving, Clark Kent."

Fighting my own physical response to her excitement, I try to make myself think this through. This can't be happening. Does she not remember? I gasp out loud, surprising myself, as she pulls herself up and slides on top of me. To keep from touching any sensitive spot, I pull my hands up in surrender and whine at the softness of her skin and the weight of her against me. "Beth."

"What?" She mumbles against my nipple and then pinches it with her lip-covered teeth.

"Ye-ahh," my whole body jumps at the electrical surge zapping me. "Honey, you need to,"

She pushes her fingers into my hair, cutting off my useless words and my eyes close against my will. Her tender lips make their way up my sensitive neck and she pauses above my lips with her half-hung eyes open to mine. "It's been too long, baby." Her voice is smooth as velvet and her words like life to a dying man.

I can hear myself moan and feel my fingers tangling into her long silky hair. "Beth," I cry upstream to my needs. "You can't do this."

"Hmm," she smiles out loud, her breath causing my lips to pucker in desire. "But I am doing this."

Without my response, she closes her silky lips over mine and relaxes her body, pushing me into the softness of our bed. With no physical control left to stop her, I surrender to the stimulation flooding my being and lose myself in her touches, her smell, and her desire. _Her body isn't ready, Kent_. With new determination, I listen carefully to make sure she doesn't go too far as I open my mouth wide to her tongue. _I can stop this if I need to._

--

His hands are pushing up on my shoulders frantically and he nearly bites my tongue trying to get me to stop. Pulling back nervously, I search his stricken face. "Clark?"

His eyes widen to nearly white, his brows fold, and he begs wildly, "Why do you have two heartbeats?"

--

"Clark!" Oliver looks up at us from where he's closing his laptop in the dining room.

I can feel Clark's hand on my back as we step happily down the rest of the stairs. "Oliver! We have some excellent news." Clark's pride is thick as he looks around the room, "Where's Chloe?"

"She's in our room, packing a bag. My security just spotted a Luthor-leased Land Rover about 5 miles out from here." He shoves a stack of papers down into the laptop case.

The Luthors are coming here?

I can feel the tension in Clark's hand as he pulls his shoulders back bravely. His voice is deeply bitter, "He lives in this county, Oliver, and less than 5 miles from here."

"Clark, there are 6 armored vehicles coming, 2 from each direction, all equidistant from this farm, and one ambulance about a half mile behind the Land Rover. _This_ is an attack."

An ambulance… complete with Kryptonite restraints, I'm sure. Fear for him is overwhelming me and I can hear my breaths increase. "Clark, what are we going to do?" I grab his arm.

Oliver snatches his jacket and laptop case, "Chloe and I are rendezvousing with my 'copter," he checks his watch, "in 30 seconds. We don't want the bird to be seen, it would jeopardize everything."

I'm overwhelmed with the need to run away or faint but Clark just stands here, holding my shaking hand like a statue.

Chloe runs down the stairs with a large bag hung over her shoulder as she checks her phone. "You guys need to get out of here, too!"

Clark growls and his fists tighten, "Let him come, he's risking _his_ life!"

"Clark!" I cry out, trying to banish the lightheadedness creeping into my skull.

Oliver barks, "I would advise you to take Beth and fly off to my loft in Metropolis or the estate in Star City, where we're going. It's too risky to try and face him with all the troops falling in behind." He holds his hand out to Chloe, "C'mon Goldilocks, the 'copter is ready to take off."

"Clark," I beg, I can hear the whine in my voice, "We need to go, please." He looks down at me, anger is smoldering in his eyes. "What if he has Kryptonite…?" My words fade as my throat catches.

"I won't let him get close enough; I've dealt with Lex before."

"She's right, Clark, Lex knows Kryptonite weakens you." Oliver turns at the back door, "He's not going to bring all this firepower to watch you just fly off. And he has tons of backup." We can hear the blades of the helicopter squeal and throb in the air. "You're outnumbered. This is not the time for revenge!" Oliver looks out the back door and turns back to us and reaches out for me. "Beth, c'mon, go with us."

Clark looks down at me for my answer. His stance is so confident with his arms taut and his chest pushing out proudly, I can't leave him. Without taking my eyes from my husband, I answer Oliver weakly, "I go where Clark goes, Ollie," Even if it's back to that facility, I can't lose him again. "But thank you."

Oliver nods at me and bores down at Clark, "Get your wife out of here in time, Clark!" He disappears from the back door as it slams. The whir of the helicopter grows exponentially louder, the throb of it making everything in the house rattle, and then quickly quiets into the distance.

My heart is slamming in my chest as I look back up to Clark Kent. His thoughts are racing, I can see it in his unfocused eyes. "Baby, what do you want me to do?"

--

**Defensive**

My wife is standing in front of me, panting in fear, with upwards of 15 armed men on their way toward us. What am I thinking? Why didn't I send her away to safety with Oliver? The phone rings and she gasps, jumping back. Checking the caller I.D., I press the talk button and Oliver barks into my ear. "Clark?"

"Yeah."

"The Land Rover is 200 feet out and the other 7 vehicles 250."

"Thanks, Ollie." Hanging up the receiver, I reach up to the fireplace and grab my grandfather's gun. Turning to Beth, I ask, "I want you to take this and-"

"Clark, I don't know how to use a gun!" She backs up, her eyes white with fear.

Checking the gun, I cock it and hold it out to her. "It's ready, just slide this safety back and you can pull the trigger. Even if I'm close by, I want you to use this if you feel in danger. Do you understand?"

Tears flood her eyes and her chest hiccups as she nods shakily.

Grabbing her hand I pull her, "C'mon." We run out of the house and stop in the middle of the driveway. I can see the dust kicking up from the off-road vehicles coming across the field. "Go hide in the loft, Beth."

"But," her body folds nervously, "isn't that where you two always hung out together?"

My hands cup her shoulders firmly, "I'm staying here to meet him, he'll have no reason to go up there. Now, go!" She runs toward the barn, her arms swinging awkwardly with the heavy rifle in her hands. Judging by the sounds around me, the Land Rover is now rolling up my driveway and I'm ready, my plan is in place.

Sending a prayer heavenward for our safety, I widen my legs and watch as the white Rover speeds right up to my chest. I can see Lana in the passenger seat waving Lex to stop and my hearing provides me a glimpse of their conversation. Lex grinds out as the tires skid in the gravel, "He'd heal."

"Lex, we need to be able to drive out of here." Lana pants out as they open their doors simultaneously. She is in her favorite color lately, white, a short business-like dress and Lex is in a typical business suit, sans the tie. They watch me closely as they step around their open doors.

"Just coming back from the Opera? 'Cause I don't remember inviting you here for any special occasion."

Lex smiles his confident smile and answers smoothly, "It's just another business day, Clark, don't let it rattle you."

Lana smiles coolly as they move in sync to either side of me, about 10 feet apart. I'd already x-rayed their bodies for Kryptonite, Lana being the only one carrying anything peculiar, a large metal perfume atomizer. I step backwards to keep them in front of me and growl, "So, what are you doing on my farm?" I can hear his men circling the house with mechanical objects in their hands I'm sure to be guns of some sort.

"Always cut to the chase, don't you Clark? Never any pleasantries with you." Lex smiles.

Slipping into superspeed, I push into one of his gun-toting men and pile him into 3 others, knocking them all against their armored vehicle behind the house. Instantly, I'm back in front of the Luthors as Lana's hair blows in the breeze. Her eyes widen slightly at not knowing what I just did. Lex notices apparently, "Relax, Lana, we're not here to hurt him, he won't hurt us."

Slipping my thumbs into my belt loops, I lean back more comfortably than I feel, "Yeah, that's why I now have 4 shiny new semi-automatics in my collection."

"Impressive." Lex tilts his head in admiration.

"I don't know why you'd bring weapons onto this peaceful farm if you didn't intend to harm." I smile uneasily as I listen for Beth's heart beat; it's high but steady.

"Really Clark," Lana looks away from us. "We don't want to harm, we just want to get back what once belonged to us."

Hearing a vehicle door shut down the driveway, I superspeed down there and knock an ambulance driver in the head as he lights up a cigarette. "Smoking is bad for your health." I quip. Once again, I reappear with the Luthors, only this time, behind Lex. "If you're referring to me or my wife," Lana and Lex turn around, slightly surprised at my new location. "We never belonged to you in the first place."

"Finders Keepers, Clark." Lana smiles as she strolls coolly to Lex's side.

Lex waves her off smoothly, "He's right, Lana. From his side of things, we did a bad thing." He steps closer to me, his hands in his pockets. "So, are you going to punish us, Clark?"

I swallow, wishing I could take a life right now. What they did to us was inexcusable, inhuman behavior.

"He's such a coward, we could kill all his livestock, knock down his precious farmhouse and he'd still just try to have us arrested." She leans against the SUV like a cat stretching out in the sun.

Lex's hand comes out of his pocket and he gestures smoothly to me, "Clark, what you don't understand, because you are not human, is that what we did and will continue to do with you on this project is for our planet's best interest. The world's leaders will applaud and reward our endeavors because it will arm this planet against the rest of your violent resource-consuming legion of aliens. You will no longer walk this earth masquerading as a human." His voice lowers dramatically and his eyes soften, "Come with us, both of you; don't fight it. Your sacrifice will be what saves this world you claim to love so much." A hint of victory lights up his eyes.

Both of us. At the mention of sacrificing my wife, my limbs shake for want of murder and I catch his throat and push him up against his metal vehicle, barking, "Just a tiny squeeze and it would spell the end of your project, then who would reward you?"

Lex's hands grab mine and dig for relief on his neck. Lana screams at me and I can hear her move right up behind my back, digging frantically in her purse. "Let him go, Clark!"

A mechanical voice crackles from Lex's wristwatch, "The partridge has been spotted in the tree, will proceed to plan."

Looking up at Lex' face, I can see his grin widen and hear Beth gasp in her hiding place. My Grandpa's rifle blows loud in the stillness and I let go of Lex to speed to Beth's side. As I turn, I see Lana spraying her atomizer into the air at my face; a green mist leaking out the tip. Slipping into superspeed, I knock Lex into her and stop again inside the barn. Ramming two men off the stairs on my way up, I find a third bent over with the barrel of his gun against Beth's neck. She's puddling up into tears and crying out loud as I knock him against the wall. Grabbing my wife around the waist, I turn to fly out the large window when a fourth assailant steps out of the darkness and kicks his automatic weapon into action. Bullets fly through the air toward us, but I'm successful at maneuvering around them and escaping unscathed.

Flying across the sunlit fields, I look down at her face to find it stricken and white. Only a second later, my insides start to ache with familiar poisoning and we fall right out of mid-air into the edge of our field Dad always called the 'back forty'. I take the brunt of the fall, but Beth cries out on impact, rolling off me into the long grass. Her chest hiccups for air and her skin turns red with strain. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" I scramble to get on my knees, knowing the tall weeds will keep us hidden a minute.

She moans, looking confused, "What happened?"

"I don't know," I reach out for her shoulders to pull her up and she crumples back to the ground, covering a scream of pain with her hand. Finding warm moisture on her back, I shudder, "No." Turning her carefully onto her side, I'm assaulted with a powerful onslaught of weakness as I see blood pouring from a bullet hole in her back. "Baby, I need to get you some help."

Tears roll from her eyes as her body begins shaking in jerks. "We can't stay here…" She swallows awkwardly and I can see she's fighting nausea.

I know exactly what she's feeling and I crawl back from her a few inches. Relief comes slightly and I run my fingers through my hair, trying to think how to get her some help. Being close to her weakens me. Her eyes grow wide at the distance between us. Putting my hand up, I whisper, "I'm going to just see where they are, okay?" I can't tell her she's stripping me of strength.

"Don't leave me!" Her begging tears at my heart.

"I won't," I back up about 3 feet and instantly, my x-ray ability scans the farm. Lana is climbing into the Rover, rubbing her forehead, as Lex speaks with a handful of his men, a couple of them holding their wounds. Tilting my head, I listen to what they are saying.

"Mr. Luthor, I'm sure I got one of them with a bullet as they leaped out the barn window."

"They leaped out the barn window?" He turns and studies the building. Rubbing his chin, he smiles, "I guess we have some other abilities to contend with."

"Sir?" The security officer asks for clarification.

Lex turns to him and pats his shoulder, "That's good news. Get your men and scan the rest of these barns and the fields for any sign of them. And keep your eyes open; if a meteor bullet got into either one of them, they won't be far."

Scanning for the rest of them, I see all of their vehicles parked behind my house. Lex puts the Rover into gear and pulls forward to make the turn around in the driveway. A thought occurs to me and I take off in super speed toward the vacant ambulance. Stepping up onto the rig's threshold, I aim my heat vision at Lex's tires. They blow swiftly and I'm entertained by Lex's display of emotion as he hits his steering wheel with his fists. Backing up, I maneuver the rig down the street toward the back forty and Beth.

--


	11. Chapter 11

**Rescuing**

"Clark!" I whisper for the third time and still there's no response. He never ignores my calls when he can get to me. "No," my stomach roils at the thought they might've caught him. Saliva fills my mouth and I roll to my hip and heave into the long grasses around me, choking and trying to catch my breath. The bullet in my back moves and sends a piercing pain into my shoulder blade. Falling back to get it to cease, I collapse into large hands.

"Beth, we need to hurry." Clark grunts and tightens his jaw as he tugs at me.

"Oh, Clark…!" I smile at him, my lips shaking.

"Baby, I got us some transportation, but uh," he groans, "I need you to help me. Can you walk if I help you?"

Now I _know_ there's something wrong; Clark would rather carry me than have me walk even when I'm healthy. The fear in his eyes fills me and I sit up with much strain and wincing in pain. Once on my feet, he wraps his long arm around my waist and I lean heavily against his shoulder, as we make our way out of the long grasses. "Are y-, you hurt?"

"C'mon, here, watch that hole." His breathing is vexed, like that of a normal man helping a woman walk, but he's not a normal man. "Easy," he opens the side door of an ambulance.

With me hanging onto the door for support, Clark actually does the lifting and sets me down on the passenger seat with a grunt. "Where did you get this?" I mumble, unsure he can understand me.

He closes my door and instantly, his door is open and he's reaching over to help me with the safety buckle I'm struggling with. "It was the Luthors'." He answers distractedly as he glances up in the rear-view and side mirrors. "I disabled their Land Rover, but the armored vehicles won't be-," His eyes widen at what he's seen, "God, here they come." Instantly, the rig is in Drive and we're speeding away.

The road is bumpy, normal for a country road, and normal for every day that I drive around this town, but today, it's excruciating. Trying not to wince with each pothole or swerve he makes around them, I struggle to hold on. "Ngh," I take a shallow breath at the nausea overwhelming me, "And I was finally feeling better..."

"I'm so sorry," he checks his mirrors and guns the accelerator. "I should've sent you with Oliver, you wouldn't have been hurt." He cuts his eyes to mine apologetically before digging in his pocket.

"I'm just glad," I pause with the pain and weakness assaulting me and I lean forward toward my own lap to keep from bumping my shoulder into the seat back. The throbbing is fierce and I slam my eyes shut to push out tears.

"Hang on, baby." Clark's voice is full of worry and regret. The next thing I hear is, "Oliver, we ran into a snag, can you come back and get us?" I open my eyes to see he's talking into his cell phone. "Beth's been shot and we're moving down route 411 away from the farm." He checks his mirrors. "No, I'll explain later; we're in an ambulance, but there are 4 armored vehicles about 200 feet behind me." He pauses, "I'll try." Placing his open phone on the seat beside him, he grips the steering wheel. "Hang on tight, Beth."

The rig swerves through an intersection, tires squealing, as he turns it north nearly without slowing down. I obey the urge to lean to my right to help keep the wheels on the ground, but as the vehicle breaks out of its centrifugal force, my body slams into the side door. I can't keep from screaming out at the pain ripping into me, cascading down my back and through my chest cavity. I can feel Clark's hand stroking my hair as darkness creeps into my vision and I collapse onto the bench seat between us.

Hands are on me, digging and pushing into my stomach and chest. I open my eyes to see Clark removing a seat belt from my ribs. Pulling me up to a sitting position, his eyes lock with mine for a split second. "Hold onto me, I've got to get you on that chopper."

I try to help him, but he's got my hurt shoulder against his chest; I'm unable to lift that arm to get it around his broad shoulders. "S-sorry."

"It's okay," he pushes out on a strained breath as he drags me off the seat and leans back to heft the weight of my frame against him. A few labored steps later and a second set of hands are on me.

"Here, let me take her," Oliver groans as Clark pushes me into his strong arms. He turns me into the wind of the whirring helicopter blades and does his best to walk fast. "Clark, what happened, are you hurt, too?"

"Oh my god!" Chloe cries out as Oliver climbs slowly into the helicopter and sets me on the seat next to her.

"Chloe, hold onto her, please."

"Of course!" Her hands are on my shoulders, tugging me into her lap, stroking absently, as she takes another breath. "Clark, you're hurt."

We watch as Clark climbs in last and sits beside Oliver across the path from us. The guilt on his face is palpable and it makes me forget the pain in my shoulder. After buckling himself in, he leans back against the fuselage and takes a deep breath. "I'm fine."

Oliver opens his bag, pulls out a white t-shirt and tosses it to Chloe, over my head, yelling to be heard over the whining engines. "Hold that against her open wound, try to stop the bleeding."

"Got it," she answers confidently. I know what's coming and I close my lips and eyes in apprehension. The pain on contact feels like I'm being cut in half with a dull saw and my whole body tightens. Unable to stifle my groans, she whimpers loudly as she maintains pressure on my back, "Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry, I know this has to hurt." She sighs shakily and adjusts the cloth and pressure, "Guh-osh, this is a mess."

The ripping pain steadies and I open my eyes to see Clark holding a tissue out to me, silently watching me as his muscles and jaw tighten again. I hate that he's worried but his physical discomfort still has me worried. Have his abilities been incapacitated ever since I was shot? Was he shot, too?

Apparently Chloe is ready for an explanation, as well. "Okay, Clark, since Beth can't be heard over these ear-splitting engines, tell us what happened." His eyes shift to hers and guilt washes over him like he was just pushed into a shower of it. "Now!" She barks.

"Belay that!" Oliver yells and puts his hand up. Adjusting his headset microphone toward his mouth, he speaks in a dull roar, "What's our ETA?" "Okay, connect me with Dr. Bock at Target Freedom." He focuses on us again and lowers his hand. "Sorry."

Clark's hands twist together in his lap and his eyes fall to mine. "There were so many of them."

"You knew that!" Chloe lashes, her hands pressing harder into my back. I clasp my hand around her knee for support as I cry out.

"Chloe!" Oliver figuratively slashes his throat and her pressure lightens on my back.

Clark re-opens his eyes, revealing redness, "Lex asked me to go with him."

"Lex was there, in person?" He nods at Chloe. "What made him think you would willingly go?"

"He claimed to be a savior of earth; that I am just the beginning of some mass invasion, that what he learns from testing me will save mankind in the future." He looks down at me again, sadly. "Lana tried to spray me with her Kryptonite atomizer."

"Ooh, I gotta give her props for creativity." She shakes her head. "And Lex sure has your number with the guilt routine. So, I guess super speed came in handy?"

Suddenly, the burning in my back increases, my lungs starve for oxygen and all I can do is curl up and try to breathe. Chloe's hand falls heavily on my arm, trying to get it to stop jerking. My lips open for air and my held-back groans spill out in the open cabin. Clark kneels in front of me, placing his hand on my face. "Beth, we're almost there, please hang on."

With my lungs hiccupping for air, I just look at him and blink to communicate my love to him. His breaths are erratic and his muscles are clinched again.

"Clark, what's-?" Chloe leans over me to touch his arm. "Their bullets… she's got Kryptonite in her, doesn't she?"

Nodding slowly, he backs up and falls against his jumpseat trying to get back on it; his breaths deepen the moment he gets seated. She's right; that's why he couldn't carry me, why we fell from the sky when he tried to fly me away from the farm.

Oliver rubs his thighs and reaches for his headset mike again. "Yes, doctor, we have a 20-yr-old female, shot in the shoulder blade area with a large caliber meteor-based bullet, our ETA is 10 minutes, tops." Covering his mike, he bends toward me, "Beth, do you have any drug or latex allergies?"

I take a shallow breath and swallow, the tension is too much. With my shoulder jerking, I look into Clark's eyes through tears in my own. "No."

Ollie nods and releases his mike, "That's a negative, Doctor. Yes, she's conscious."

Clark's eyes widen and he sits up straight, "She's pregnant!"

I can feel the collective gasp in this small space. Oliver barks into his mike, "Hang on, doctor!" Yanking his headset off, he turns angrily at Clark. "I'm confused, how did she come to be pregnant?"

Chloe guffaws and teases through her hand. "Oh, Ollie, I'm in trouble if you don't know _that_!" Oliver glares at her and turns to Clark again.

My husband's lips open and close again as his eyes roll uncomfortably. His hand comes out, "We were told she had an abortion, and I guess we just accepted it, never tried to determine otherwise. But I could hear 2 sets of heartbeats this morning and when I used my x-ray vision, I could actually see the baby's heart beating." My chest lightens at the look of love on his face.

Oliver shakes his head wryly, grinning, "I'll never get used to all of your abilities, Clark."

"Oh my god!" Chloe jumps in her seat happily, causing me extreme discomfort. "We never did see them, well, extract the fetus," Ollie waves his hands at her to stop. "on tape." She leans over me, "Sorry, Beth, I didn't mean…"

She's not upsetting me, but I can't keep my eyes open any longer. I'm so tired.

Clark is near, his voice coos warmly against my ear. "Beth, honey…"

Clark.

--

I hate seeing her helpless. It's taking everything in me to not run in there and hold her. The doctor has her lying on her stomach to access her shoulder easier; her face is turned toward me, still. She looks like a little girl, so vulnerable, with her eyes closed in sleep and her lips pouting into the oxygen mask. I let her down. I should've pushed her into Oliver's chopper myself, but I thought I was in control of the situation and she trusted me. God, she trusted me to keep her safe. The glass wall between us keeps me from feeling the poison effects, but I can barely breathe, the pain is almost more than I can bear.

--


	12. Chapter 12

**Reaching for a Savior**

Moving through the emergency station, I stop dead in my tracks.

There he stands, with his hands against the glass wall, caressing it as if it were a woman's face, her skin under his fingers. The worry and sorrow pouring off his sagging posture tells me so much of his feelings for the person inside. His jaw and stance are held tight and he keeps choking on his breaths, just as if he had those green bracelets on again.

Physically he towers over me and is built so strong, I almost can't believe this is the same man I nursed back to health back in Oregon. I choke out his name, "Mr. Kent?" and wonder if he'll remember me at all.

He barely responds without turning, without seeing, without his knowledge, his lips answering, "Yes."

My heart hurts for him, "Angel, what are you doing here?"

Swiftly, he turns from the window, his eyebrows curled in confusion, "Miss Colleen?" His face relaxes into the most beautiful smile and his arms open up around me. "Oh," he rests his chin on my shoulder and hugs me. I can't believe how far around me his long arms go. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

He backs away apologetically and I watch his features tighten again as he focuses on a young woman in the throes of emergency care. "Is that your wife, Angel?"

He takes a shallow pained breath and his voice is choked as he answers me, "Yes, that's Beth."

Focusing on what he's watching, I can feel tension filling me at the obvious seriousness of her condition. They've got a pint of blood hung, an oxygen mask, a sterile intubation tray ready on the counter, and blinking monitor lights indicating her inability to breathe and severe loss of blood.

Hearing his sniffles, I focus on what he's seeing without the aid of medical experience. He sees her unresponsiveness, the tubes and needles, the pale blueness of her skin contrasted sharply against the vibrancy of her blood, and professional strangers coolly cutting her shirt, jeans, even her lacy underwear off, leaving his bride bared to the whole room, to us, and anybody walking by. I can hear him sigh, and out of my peripheral vision, see him drop his head in reverence to her nakedness.

The nurse in charge covers her, blessedly, with a large sheet and they push her gurney out into the hall, banging into the doors loudly. At the blow to our senses, we both turn and he rushes forward to catch up with the moving gurney. "Beth!"

Dr. Bock stops, letting the nurses wheel his wife away, and approaches Clark with her hands up to stop him. "Sir, we're taking her to surgery now, you'll have to wait here."

"Is she going to be okay?"

The doctor pushes her dark shoulder-length hair behind her ear and speaks calmly and cautiously. "We were hoping to get her stable before the surgery, however, the radiation from the bullet is exacerbating the situation, making her condition graver each minute." Clark takes a breath to ask another question, but Dr. Bock backs up, "I'm sorry, I need to get in there."

"Please hurry!" He calls and Dr. Bock waves her thin arm as she runs through the next doorway without looking back.

"Clark! What's happening?" A young blonde woman trots up the adjoining hall toward us, pulling my boss, Mr. Queen, by the hand.

My dark-headed angel turns in her direction, but judging by the distance in his green eyes, he's not focusing on her. "She…" Pausing, he lifts his arm toward the surgery doors and tightens his jaw.

I weigh the circumstances and decide to intervene. "They're taking her to surgery."

The blonde turns to me with her eyebrows up. I knew I should've kept quiet.

"Chloe," Mr. Queen interrupts, "This is Colleen Joyner; she was Clark's nurse in the Oregon facility." He smiles at me, "How are you today?"

I nod, but Chloe wraps her arms around me tightly, "Oh, geeze, I'm so glad to finally meet you face to face."

"Thank you, you too, Miss Sullivan?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm leaving." Clark's deep angered voice cuts through the hallway and we all turn to watch him back up, his eyes cutting in all directions for maybe the best exit.

"Clark!" Miss Sullivan grabs his wrist. "Where are you going?"

He takes a shallow, tense breath and lets his lips part on a growl, "I have to stop the Luthors."

"What?" Her golden eyes try to get him to focus. "Now isn't the time."

Clark swallows and his voice breaks, "Chloe, I can't let them hurt my family again."

"What are you going to do?" She whispers, "Clark Kent can't take a life."

"Clark, that's a bad idea." Mr. Queen's eyes widen. "My men are bringing our case against them to the Feds as we speak." He gestures to me desperately, "Miss Joyner has agreed to testify."

With his shoulders still up and his eyes still unfocused, I can see their arguments aren't working. I take a breath and add, "Angel, Beth needs you here."

Clark's eyes shift to me without seeing, "I ca- can't do anything for her right now," he shakes out of Miss Sullivan's grip and trots away.

"Clark!" Miss Sullivan calls loudly and shrugs her shoulders. Mr. Queen lays his hand on her shoulder sympathetically and sighs.

"Um, do you want me to go after him? He needs to be _here_." I can't believe they gave up so fast.

"No, Miss Joyner," Chloe pulls on my hand and tugs me toward the waiting area. "Trust me, he's already gone."

--

In a moment, I touch down on the highway that directly spans the distance between my home and the Luthor mansion. Unwillingly, I chose halfway between because I can't figure out what I'm doing. All I do know is that I couldn't stay at the hospital any longer and just wait. Chloe will call if they need me.

There's engine noise approaching and I turn to see a long motorcade of vehicles driving slowly toward me, the lead cars long, black limousines. The headlights are all on, eerily flashing like a mirage as they pass me by. Someone is saying goodbye, so I bow my head and whisper a prayer, "Father, comfort their broken hearts." And as I fly away, there's a thought that I cannot escape, no matter how fast I fly, I cannot escape this thought; I can't get away.

_What if this should be her last day on this earth? How then shall I live?_

There's a pull on my heart and I find myself landing in the Smallville Cemetery. There's only one cold headstone here that comforts me somehow, and as my hands trace the letters and numbers, I kneel at my father's grave with a heavy, broken heart. "Dad," I whisper, "I don't know what to do."

Silence. All I can hear around me is the wind swirling between the tree branches and the blades of grass.

Unable to stand the pressure any longer, I raise my hands and face to the sky. Closing my eyes and blithering through a clogged throat, I beg at the top of my lungs, "Please God, make her be okay!" My chest slams over and over as sobs escape and I struggle to breathe as tears roll freely down my cheeks and neck.

A few moments pass and I can feel the garnet rays of the evening sunset burn through my soul, bringing me an edge of peace.

My phone rings, a harsh unnatural sound blaring across the quietness of this sanctuary. "Clark!" It's Chloe, and her voice is shaky.

"Chloe?" I beg through my tight throat.

"They got the bullet, but she's," only a whisper comes through the signal, "They, they can't help her." Her voice breaks and she sobs through the rest, "Please, you need to hurry."

"I'm there!"

Streaking into the sunset, the brilliant orb seems to brighten as I cross the sky back toward Oliver's hospital. Back to Beth.

--

Author's Note: Credit for the highway scene in Clark's POV was inspired by a song, _Last Day on Earth_ by Stephen Curtis Chapman.

--

**Desperate**

Miss Sullivan is a puddle of strained emotion, patting Beth's pale hand and wiping her tears frantically. Mr. Queen strokes her back with a heavy hand and wipes a tear from his face occasionally. I don't know this young woman and as my son used to sing along with his favorite Sesame Street characters as a child, 'which one of these doesn't belong?' I realize I need to step out.

"Beth!" Clark Kent darts into the room at a near-blurring speed. Pausing to read everyone's expressions, he steps gingerly to his wife's side and picks up her hand. His other hand strokes her blue-tinged face and without missing a beat, he talks to her like she is at the other end of a phone conversation. "Did you miss me? I missed you every second."

Miss Sullivan rises from her chair and she and my boss back up out of respect, while remaining in high alert to his every word.

My beautiful angel turns his heartbroken eyes to me and asks gently, "Would you open the blinds, please, Miss Colleen?" He turns back to his bride and continues like he never paused. "She would love to see the sunset."

Resisting the urge to bawl like a baby, I pull on the cord to reveal only tiny golden tufts floating in a sapphire sea.

"Oh no," he whispers, "You missed it. It was the most beautiful I've ever seen, Beth, even more so than those fall evenings from our barn window. The rays circled me as I prayed for you and just filled me with so much hope." His voice breaks on the last word and he pinches his lips together, kisses her forehead and pushes his face into her neck.

"Mr. Kent," The door swings wide. "I need to speak with you, sir." Dr. Bock's voice is loud and unpleasant after his sweet golden whispers of love.

Clark stands and releases her face to wipe his own. Lifting his chin to the doctor, "Ma'am," he swallows, "she's so weak."

"You are correct," Dr. Bock takes a breath and her eyebrow goes up in bewilderment as he seems to quit listening, like he's mentally drifting away. She keeps her voice professionally caring through her diagnosis, "I'm afraid your wife is not strong enough to fight the radiation poison, create and replenish blood cells, _and_ pull enough oxygen in to keep her heart going much longer."

He lifts his face, but his eyes seem to stay glued to his wife's petite hand in his massive grip. "The baby's heart is strong…"

"Yes, strangely, the baby seems to be the strongest part of Elizabeth, for now." Dr. Bock tilts her head, "Sir, we need to intubate and hook her up to a ventilator so that oxygen _can_ get in and give your wife a little more time."

Miss Sullivan whimpers against Mr. Queen's chest; Dr. Bock's words are never sugar-coated.

Clark looks up swiftly at his friend with a glimmer of hope in his green eyes. My heart breaks in two that he won't give up on a failing situation. "The baby, Chloe!" He sucks in air swiftly and begins pulling the blankets off his wife's frame.

"Sir, did you hear me?" The doctor touches his shoulder in frustration.

"Clark?!" Chloe Sullivan lifts her face to the strange scene before us all as Clark Kent slips the oxygen mask _off_ his wife's face.

He nods and turns to me, "Miss Colleen, I need you to help me with these tubes. Please free her for me."

"Nurse Joyner, stop this instant." Dr. Bock reaches for the phone on the wall, "I'm calling security; he's killing her right here."

"Oh my god, Clark!" Chloe steps forward and touches Clark's arm. "Do you think it will work?"

"…The baby is the strongest part of Elizabeth..." He quotes, his jaw tight with desperation.

Against all my medical training, I cannot help but catch the fever of blind hope, and trying to see through the welled tears in my eyes, I step forward to do my angel's bidding. "This is crazy."

His green eyes are filled with a mixture of fear and hope as he looks into mine, "I have to try."

Oliver Queen finally snaps into action and taking the phone from our dear doctor, gently walks her toward the door, "Please let him take her home." We all stop and look at Clark as he gently peels the wired nodes from Beth's chest. Chloe pauses, building her courage, and then rips open the Velcro closure to the baby monitor belt across Beth's stomach, laying it open on the mattress.

"But she'll die…" Andrea Bock whines as she watches us all undo everything she's put into place.

"You said yourself, the ventilator would only delay the inevitable." Mr. Queen widens his stance, "I will pull rank if I need to; I'm letting Elizabeth go home."

"Sir." I watch as the doctor surrenders to the boss's will. She then steps to the foot of the bed and announces bravely, "I sincerely wish we could've done more for her, sir." At the look of genuine thankfulness my angel gives, my colleague wraps her hands around her own arms and steps out of the room with a softening in her eyes.

I clear my throat, "You know what you're doing?"

"He does," Chloe strokes my arm as Clark slides his hands under and lifts his bride up to his chest. He pauses to make sure her still face will stay against his neck and Chloe admonishes, "Go, Clark, hurry!"

Instantly, the room is empty of shared purpose and soul-stirring love, and the three of us look at each other awkwardly, wondering what to do next.

--

Zooming through several timezones, I cradle Elizabeth's lifeless and lax form. The cold air of the upper atmosphere hits me in the face and I'm struck with the realization that this won't work; I'm grasping at straws to save my dying wife.

Coming to a stop and hovering high above the earth, I shift my grip and hold her out away from me, stretching her body out against the sun's brilliant rays. Her limbs dangle down and my fingers tangle in her hair as I support the back of her neck and small of her back. "Please God," I whimper, holding my breath.

--


	13. Chapter 13

There's cold around me, a chill whipping around my skin, and an intense warmth surging and streaking through my veins. I shiver against the warring sensations. I'm not sure where I am but I need, "Haa-ah," I suck in the cold air like I'm drowning. And my heart is pumping like a rush from caffeine. Peeking, I'm blinded by the sun and I try to bring my arm up to block my face.

"Thank you!" That's Clark; his voice is booming all around me, echoing and swirling in the wind. I can hear his panting breaths strangle in his throat.

"Clar-?" I choke, still trying to drink in the air around me. His fingers twitch against me and I finally realize his vast hand is supporting the base of my head; holding me. Twisting in his grasp, I fight to see him.

I can feel my body lowering and his hand sliding down the back of my leg; my knees being caught at his elbow. The second I see his face in my peripheral vision, I wrench toward him and grab onto his shoulder. He lowers me the rest of the way, letting my legs dangle as he pulls my body against his. With his powerful arms locked behind my back, I wrap my arms and legs around his shaking frame and try to soothe him. I can feel his breath against my ear, a whispered, "Thank you."

Pulling back, I look into his face. His eyes are wide and searching my face, my body, needing to know that I am okay. I recognize that stare and I know he's x-raying me. "Clark, am I dreaming?"

His brows fold as his green eyes bore into mine with an inner peace, a soft vulnerability. "Elizabeth, this is a dream-come-true for me." He leans into me and nudges my nose with his. I can feel his lashes and warm breath against my cheek.

"So, none of this was a dream?" I push my fingers into his hair, letting my thumb caress his earlobe, as I search him for answers. "What-?" I don't even know what to ask.

His smile opens up sweetly and wetness creeps into his eyes as he tucks an errant lock of my hair behind my ear, "The baby saved you."

--

She leans her head back and tears leak out the corners of her eyes as she slams them shut in relief. I can feel her chest jerk just once and she takes a breath to reign in her emotion. Opening her tearful eyes to me again, her lips stretch into the most beautiful smile, "So, the baby is okay?"

I can't speak through the catch in my throat, but I nod and whisper, "Yes."

At once, her arms tighten around my neck and she drops her face against my ear. A sweet soulful cry escapes her and I lay my hand on the back of her head and hold her tight.

"And you are, too." I sniff back tears and take a deep breath, cherishing the warmth and responsiveness in her embrace. Looking up into the sky, I whisper one more time, "Thank you!"

Her breath freezes and she pulls back; her face is contorted in confusion, "How did the baby…?" She looks around us and notices for the first time we are in the sky, above the clouds and the wind is whipping the edges of her hospital gown. Shuddering at the cold or embarrassment of her appearance, she stares at me without seeing, "The sun healed me?"

I nod happily.

"Just like it does you?"

I nod again and watch her close her eyes and take in a long deep breath, a smile creeping across her face as she feels the warmth of the sun's rays sustaining her. Her next breath is just as deep, but she releases it slowly and her limbs tighten around me. Her hands slide apart and she cups my cheeks softly but firmly, blindly letting her thumbs find my lips. I close my eyes at the sensual stirrings in my body and before I realize it, her lips are on mine, just barely, kissing softly and tenderly at first. Sucking in a quick draught of air, she presses into me, her mouth tugging on each of my lips; the tip of her tongue teasing mine, belying her raging hunger.

I've missed her and I can't control the flood of excitement drowning us both. My brain disengages to her possible delicacy and I pull from her mouth long enough to breathe desperate air, tangle my hand into the back of her hair and tug her back into my open mouth. She senses my need to taste her and her lips kiss me openly, giving me permission to push my tongue thickly into her. She gulps in a quick breath and at once, her franticness ceases, her limbs going still and tight around me as she moans hungrily.

With her wrapped tightly around my body, I let my hand roam down from her waist knowing my fingers will find bare skin to caress. I'm not disappointed as the gown she's wearing is split open in the back and my fingers find her skin, cold but softer than ever before. At my touch, she sucks in air and slides her body up mine until her fingers tug on my hair and she breaks our desperate kiss. "Clark," her voice is thick and begging, "take me _home_."

"Baby," I choke out before she kisses me again and I pull back. "I don't think we can, you know, the baby…"

She smiles confidently and settles back down on my shoulders, her lips brushing sensually across mine. "…will be fine." She pulls back and brushes my hair off my forehead. I drown in her happy eyes, eager to hear anything she has to reassure me with, "Look what he's survived already."

She's right, the baby cheated death. For both of them. Her tongue slips across my mouth and I smile, closing my eyes and parting my lips for her.

--

**at Play**

It's nearly dark when we finally break our kiss and begin flying home. "What time is it?" I yell out into his chest with the wind flattening my hair to the top of my head.

He glances down, "Here, it's about 8:30, but we're about to cross into a new time zone."

"Timezone? I thought we went to Ollie's hospital?"

"Yeah, we did, but I needed to chase down the sun for you." He looks down and winks at me, "It's about 11:30 at home."

We crossed 3 time zones to get to the sun? I was that sick that we couldn't wait until dawn? The brevity of my situation sinks heavily into my heart and I wrap my arms tighter around my husband's ribs and push my face into his warm chest.

His hand squeezes my waist and he yells, "Are you okay?"

I choke out, "I'm just cold." Physically and mentally.

His flying arm comes down and his large hand cups the side of my head. "You _are_ cold." He tugs his jacket around my shoulder and face, keeping his arm across me, and picks up his speed. "Hang on, we'll be home in a second."

He wasn't kidding. Before I know it, I'm being set down on our front porch. The door opens and then I'm standing in the living room with Clark's quilt being wrapped around me. "I'll go start a hot bath for you." He kisses my forehead and I tug the quilt around my shaking frame and plop down on the sofa to tuck my legs in.

Hearing the tub faucet cut on upstairs, I look around our dark living room and notice things are in disarray. The phone is lying on the floor, off its hook. The bookshelves in the corner are half-emptied, the books tossed in a heap on the floor. My mother's Philodendron plant is lying on its side with dirt sprinkled out on the carpet. Just as I start to panic, Clark is at my side handing me his open cellphone.

"Here, someone will want to know you're okay." He smiles knowingly, his green eyes twinkling.

I place the phone to my ear and hear it ringing already. "Clark?!" Chloe's voice pierces my eardrum.

I can feel a smile stretch my face, "Chloe, it's me."

"Beth! Oh, God, you're okay! So the sun healed you? Completely? Where are you? Are you guys back home? Did you have to fly over Metropolis half-naked?"

"Yes!" I finally break through her barrage of questions and pause deliberately to torture her, biting my lip.

"Yes?" She pauses at something Oliver is saying to her. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't let you answer, huh?"

"I love you, Chloe!" I can feel my eyes stinging again. "I'm completely healed, we're home, and yes, I was half-naked when he flew me over Metropolis." I wink at the surprised look on Clark's face. "But it was dark out!"

"Oh, Beth, we are so happy you're okay!" The relief pouring from her voice chokes me up. "I cannot wait to tell Miss Colleen."

"Who?"

There's a pause on the phone and I can hear Oliver mumbling something in the background. "Oh, Beth?"

"Yeah?"

"Ollie says he's sorry if his men left a mess at the farm."

"Ollie's men?" Feeling tension mounting, I rise and walk into the kitchen to find cupboards left open and sugar and flour dumped out in the pantry.

"Yeah, after we got you here, he had them go all Ace Detective on the farm to clear out any nasty presents left by the Luthors. All they told him was they found some meteor rocks and would leave him a more concise report on his desk tomorrow." She pauses, "What Oliver? Oh, thank you, you are the _best_!" I hear a kiss through the phone.

"Chloe?" I pull my quilt tighter around me.

"Oh, sorry, Oliver said that if Clark sees a dark van across the road, apparently you and I wouldn't be able to see it. Anyway, that's his men and they know you're home and will be keeping an eye on the farm for you guys."

"Your tub awaits." I turn to find Clark standing in the kitchen doorway, filling it deliciously with his large body, my plush robe and a thirsty towel folded over his forearm like you'd find a server in a fancy restaurant. I giggle.

"Beth?"

"Tell Ollie thanks, Chloe, okay? I've gotta go," I push my lips into the phone and lower my voice, "If you know what I mean…"

"Gotcha!" I can hear the smile on Chloe's face. "I'm gonna start a little fire, myself. 'Night."

"Bye!" Closing the phone, I turn to see Clark wide-eyed with his chin sticking forward. "What?"

"You talk about sex?" His cheeks are flame red.

I shuffle toward him to keep from tripping over my quilt, "Um, sometimes, but not really about it, just that it happens." At his eyes rolling, I squeak out, "And she said she had plans, too…"

"No-no," He covers his eyes dramatically, his embarrassed grin tickling my insides. "I don't need any help with mental pictures, okay?"

Touching his arms softly, I apologize, "I'm sorry, but Chloe and I really don't _visualize_ when we, um, share."

He uncovers his eyes swiftly and his brows go up, "Really?" He's genuinely surprised to hear that.

"Gosh no, I don't need to picture anything." He relaxes in front of my eyes and I try to tickle his ribs. "Does Clarky feel better now?"

"Hey," his eyebrows go up and his mouth opens in shock. Once again, my teasing has surprised him. "You little devil-"

I squeal and try to back up as he smiles broadly and grabs the quilt, twisting it in his hands and dragging me back to his massive frame. "No!" I tug and pull to get away, but there's no way I can fight his strength, playful or not.

"Oh yes, come to Daddy!" His paws snatch me up off the floor and lift me kicking and wiggling up to his chest. His smile is electric and I wonder if he realizes what he just said. "Your bath is going to get cold."

I wriggle my hand out from the quilt and wave it snooty-like toward the stairs. "Onward, James," I demand.

His eyebrows go up and he smiles with a twinkle in his eyes. "So that's how it's going to be, huh? I have half a mind to throw you over my shoulder like a baby calf and dunk you in a trough." I pinch my lips together to keep from laughing outright and it apparently dares him further. "Okay," he wrenches me up and instantly I'm looking down at him from the ceiling.

"Clark, don't!" I scream out as fast as I can, but I know it's too late, my stomach is going to hit his shoulder hard. I slam my eyes and brace myself.

But the hard never happens; using his superspeed, he catches me in his arms. His face is red as he peers down at my wide eyes, "Sorry."

I raise my eyebrows and squint at him, "Me, too."

We both take a deep breath and he walks me up the stairs at normal speed while I share all of Oliver's messages animatedly. Setting me on my feet in our bathroom, he winks at me and tugs on the doorknob.

"You're not staying?"

He shakes his head, eying the tub, "There's not room in there for both of us _and_ let you relax."

I can feel disappointment creep into my mind. "Where are you going?"

He steps back into the small room, towering over me, and rubs my quilt-wrapped arms, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I shrug. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. "I guess I'm not ready to share you just yet with Bangkok or Argentina, not tonight."

He smiles reassuringly and kisses my forehead softly, "Don't worry, I'm not feeling that ambitious. I was going to take coffee out to Ollie's men and grab a quick shower." I can hear my own breath escape in relief as he bends forward and catches my lips with his open kiss. "I'm all yours tonight." With my heart beating a little faster, he backs up and grabs the doorknob, "Call me if you need _anything_, okay? I can warm up that water in a jiffy!"

He closes the door and I find myself in heaven as I wash away hospital and atmospheric grime, even shampooing my hair. Leaning back against the tub, I drape my wet washcloth over my chest and close my eyes, listening to and enjoying the silence of the house around me.

--


	14. Chapter 14

**Warm**

"Clark!" There's an urgency to her call, so I grab my towel, wrap it around my waist, and step out of my old shower. "Hurry!"

As I open our bathroom door, I see her still in the tub, leaning against the back; her shoulders are rolled forward as her hands are held awkwardly below the surface of the water. "What's wrong?" My stomach drops.

She turns to me, her face is radiant, even her eyes are smiling. One hand comes out of the water and reaches for me. "Quick, come here!"

I'm on my knees at her side in an instant and she grabs my outstretched hand and pulls it under the now-tepid water. Opening my fingers, she pushes my hand flat against her abdomen. "What is it?"

"Ooh," she gasps like I stung her and I pull my hand away.

"Did I hurt-?"

"No," she interrupts, "here, feel again."

I allow her to place my hand open on her warm skin again and she watches my face for a reaction. I don't understand, I don't feel anything, and I'm about to say so when something moves under my hand. She gasps again. "What was-?" The bump happens again, it's more of a dull point pushing up on my palm. "What _was_ that?"

She shrugs, but her eyes never lose their glow as she almost whispers, "I suppose it's a foot, a knee, or maybe a little bitty behind." She glances up to the ceiling and I can see moisture building in her eyes again, "Isn't he amazing?"

I can feel tears burning my eyes, too. "It's a miracle, I can't even imagine…" I wait for more movement and her words replay in my mind. "You keep calling this baby a 'he'; do you know something I don't?"

She smiles, her skin pinking deliciously, "I don't have any idea, I just can't say 'it' about our child."

Looking down at our hands, I wonder about the possibilities, what a little boy or tiny girl would be like; which one of us or both would he or she resemble.

"Don't you dare, Clark Kent!"

I wince at her swift rebuke and pop my head back in surprise. "Beth, what?"

Apparently, my shock confuses her and her face turns a deep crimson. "Sorry, I thought you were x-raying the baby." Her hand strokes mine under the water and she blinks a tear out the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, Clark." At the confusion on my face, she continues shakily, "I want to be surprised, I want us _both_ to be surprised. Is that okay with you?"

Sliding my free hand across the rim of the tub, I stroke her wet hair and temple with my thumb. "I don't mind, sweetheart." She smiles sadly and leans into my hand, "It's good you told me, though, my curiosity might've gotten the best of me. And you know how bad I am at keeping secrets."

She laughs heartily at that, warming me through and through. "Yeah, that's hilar-, ooh!"

There's another substantial thump under her skin, against my hand. The movement thrills me, my chest filling with a new warmth and purpose as I watch Beth lean back and smile, her eyes closing happily, and her hands holding mine in place under the water.

Stroking her temple, I notice soap bubbles forming in her hair under the friction of my thumb. "Beth, you still have shampoo…"

"Oh." She starts to sit up, letting go of my submerged hand.

Touching her shoulders, I reassure, "I'll get it." She looks up at me and I nod, "Just lean back against my hand."

"Okay." Her answer is calm and her eyes content.

As I slide my hand under her neck, she leans back tentatively until she realizes my hand is steady, then instantly her weight relaxes fully. Rising to sit on the lip of the old tub, I get a better position. With my right hand, I scoop the warm water and trickle it down the sides of her face, into her hair. A little water splatters near the corner of her eye and she blinks as I grunt in frustration.

"Here," She peels a washcloth from her chest and blindly holds it up for me to take. "This should make it easier."

I take the washcloth from her, but getting back to my task will be difficult as I am rewarded with an ample view of her chest. In fact, with the weight of her head placed solely in my hand, the softness of her hair swirling around my wrist, the arch of her neck with her throat open to me and unprotected, and the bared curves of her soft, delicate breasts glistening with moisture, I am overwhelmed with a renewed sense of responsibility; a responsibility to protect both my wife and child. They have been placed in my hands for safekeeping, for sustaining, for setting free.

Swallowing, I dunk the proffered washcloth into the water and, with better aim, rub it gently along her hairline, down each side and across her forehead, dipping it anew in the warm water before each stroke. She sighs heavily and smiles peacefully.

Setting the cloth free in the water, I trace her hairline with my thumb, rubbing and soothing her scalp and pushing my fingers through her damp hair, straightening and detangling. Her peaceful smile vanishes, her lips part, and her eyelids tighten as her breaths deepen and increase; her breasts rising and falling at an uneven rate.

My insides are lighting up at the silent moans rising from her husky throat and warmth is burning my eyes. Covering her abdomen again with my hand, I try to focus on the life inside her, without success. She shudders and I realize the water seems chilly, at least to my alien touch. "Do you need me to warm up the water a little?"

Her heavy eyes open halfway and she shudders again, her fingers tightening on my wrist under the water. "No, I want to get out," she chokes between pants, a hint of a smile stretching her tortured lips.

--

I can barely breathe; his heavy hand is holding me down firmly in the tub and his fingers are exploring my wet hair and neck. Judging by his open pupils and coarse voice, he's feeling the same way I am. I need to get out of this freezing tub and share in the pleasure we're both wanting.

To my disappointment, his hands leave their positions on my skin, but my confidence is renewed once again as he slides his palms up my rib cage and, gripping my underarms gently, lifts my drippy body up to my feet. His hands are so large, nearly spanning the width of my back as his labored breaths warm my face. He leans over me, causing my heart to jump when my bare breasts touch his warm chest, and he watches as his fingers remove the hospital bandage and smooth over the unblemished place on my back where the bullet hole healed perfectly. Smiling out loud, he kisses the top of my shoulder.

"Clark," I can't whisper more, my mind is incapable of forming words. I shiver once again; craving his warmth.

He turns his face to find my towel and I catch a twinkle in his eye, but it's hard to concentrate on anything as one of his warm wet hands slides up under my hair while the thumb of the other digs against my collarbone.

I can hear my own tiny whine as he releases my skin to tug my towel off the bar and wraps its thickness around me. "Oh, hmmm," I shiver again at the heat the towel possesses, calming my skin. Looking up in surprise, I ask, "Did you just warm-?"

He nods, his lips pouting in desire as he swallows hard.

Wrapping my now dry arms around his waist, I pull him tight against my nakedness and kiss his smooth chest. "I love you _so_ much, Clark Kent." I can feel his deep sigh on my wet hair and I turn my head and squeeze him, feeling his hardness against my abdomen.

He pulls from my grasp and using the heated towel begins drying my feet and legs, letting it slide heavily as he moves up. I nearly choke for air when his towel-covered fists part my thighs and I let my head fall back as I drown in the electric stimulation surging through me.

The next thing I feel is his breath on my face just before his silky lips open deliciously over mine. His height and strength are pushing me back and I wrap my arms around his neck for stability as his tongue fills my hungry mouth. He drags his hands up my backside, and I gasp as he lifts me off the floor. Moaning, I wrap my legs around his waist and giggle into his mouth as he fumbles to drop his own towel and then stumbles over it to step through the bedroom door.

He bends to lower me to the bed and I can hear myself whimper as his hardness bumps against me in the process. I prop my arms to walk myself up the bed for him, but his mouth is pinning me into the mattress, unwilling to let me go. Leaning on his left elbow, Clark guides the tip of his length to my eager entrance and allows his right hand to slide heavily up my skin until his fingers reach my breast. His thumb toys with my nipple torturously and I fight to breathe even as I tug his mouth deeper into my own.

--

Her body is wriggling more and more each minute and I love it. I love when my touches take her to the edge. Her knees are squeezing my hips and her hands are tugging on my hair and back to pull me inside and I can't resist much longer; her desperation and warmth are pulling me with her over that edge.

Wrapping my arms under her back and pulling from her mouth, I can hear her whine in disappointment until I climb up onto the mattress and slide her toward the pillows. She grips my neck during the movement and her back arches the moment I slip inside her moist center. "H'rrgh." She cries out on a gasp.

Her response is the same as the first time I entered her on our wedding night, but this is different. With all the strength I have I halt myself and pull up on my elbows, looking into her face. "Are you okay?"

She nods vigorously and kisses my chin, her neck straining to reach me. Falling back into her embrace desperately, I bury my lips in her hair and push in just a little further. Her hands pull at my ribs and her face bumps against my shoulder and ear in a frustrated rhythm. "Clark," she pants.

I know what she wants, but I don't want to hurt her or the baby. Holding my breath, I lift my face again and ask silently, hoping she'll be strong for both of us, because I'm faltering.

She reads my thoughts and swallows and as her brow folds up seriously, I'm sure she's going to stop me. Tears fill her eyes and, tilting her head in sweet understanding, she cries out on a coated throat, "Baby, you could never hurt us." She lifts her head and kisses my jaw.

My eyes close against my will and I melt against her, letting my desire control me. My back arches tightly and her fingers weave into my hair as she hangs onto me through our rhythmic motion. I can feel my shoulder push her chin up over and over and hear her cry out happily at the sensations ripping through her. Three more amazing thrusts later and I growl into her hair and fall sideways across her, panting for air.

Laying my head onto the pillow beside her, I listen. The baby's heart is amazingly steady even though Beth's is pounding. Opening my eyes, I see her smiling in the darkness with her eyes closed. She opens her mouth to take in a couple of settling breaths and lays her arms on me like I'm her personal blanket.

The peace and calm in her is infectious and exhaustion from this day of emotional stress overwhelms me. Tucking my lips against her soft shoulder, I close my eyes and slip into a deep sleep.

--


	15. Chapter 15

**Tight**

"Mmm," a sleepy moan and fingers twitching in my hair rouse me from slumber. Taking in a deep breath, I can feel weight across my chest as it expands. There's a sweet and sunny scent to the air I breathe in; a comforting scent.

Opening my eyes, I register the sunshine of a new day glowing across my bed, my shoulder and the girl of my dreams breathing heavily against my neck. Lifting my chin to check the clock, accidentally setting a trail of her hair free to slip across my skin, I can't register anything past the warm and tender nakedness draped over me; a forehead tucked against my ear, an arm across my chest with soft fingers buried in the back of my hair, and a cool leg holding mine to the mattress.

She takes a swift, shrill breath and licks her lips, caressing my cheekbone with her eyelashes. "Do you feel that," she clears her throat lightly, "every day?"

"Beth?" Draping my arm across her back, I tug on her long soft locks.

"You know, that sensation." I'm not sure what she's talking about. At my pause, she lifts her face to read mine. Her brows are folded in question even as her blue eyes are smiling, "I feel like someone just aimed a blow dryer at my back, only the warmth spilled inside me and shot like a shiver to the ends of my fingers and toes."

I know exactly that feeling and it's amazing to me that she can describe it so succinctly, reminding me how great a feeling it is. I take a waking breath, smile, and answer her, "Yeah, I do." I watch her expression change and her eyes soften even as she looks down at my mouth.

Her lips open into a gentle smile, "Hmmph," and her eyes blink almost shyly.

She seems so incredibly happy or at peace all of a sudden and I want to know why. Squeezing her waist, I ask gently, "What are you thinking about?"

Her blue eyes pop up to mine like I've disrupted her thoughts and she smiles for _me_ gently, "You are the most remarkable man, Clark Kent." With her eyes moistening, she settles back into her pillow where I can feel her lashes on my jaw. Her limbs tighten around me as she tilts her face up. I can feel her silky lips push into my cheek near my ear and hear her sniffle as she holds her kiss there. "I don't know what I did to deserve you…" She sniffles again.

Feeling her physical and soulful hug, I turn my face and thank her with a kiss on the top of her hair. "I love you, too, Elizabeth."

--

I am so blessed. I can't believe the emotion washing over me; I'm fighting tears for goodness sake. His incredible hands are caressing my skin, stroking my back and toying with my hair. He pauses and moves his hand to my shoulder blade. With his fingers exploring my non-existent bullet hole he releases a sweet sigh across my hair. I clear my throat and smile into his neck, "I can't believe it, either, Clark."

Clark's arms stiffen slightly and he whimpers, "I can't believe they used Kryptonite on you, I'm so sorry." He turns his lips into my hair and kisses my head; I can hear him sniff back tears.

Kryptonite. My eyes close tightly and I resist the urge to shudder in his arms. His chest rises slowly under my arm as he takes in a long breath. _It wasn't meant for me. They knew Kryptonite would stop him. It's the only thing that stops him_. Gasping against my will, I grab onto his shoulder and squeeze him with all my strength.

"Baby, what's wrong?" His arms tighten around me in protection.

"Clark," I choke out and try not to sob into his neck. I can feel his chin come down so he can look into my face. Blinking back tears, I lift my face and try to look bravely into his eyes with his brows bent in concern. "How did they," I search my thoughts for the right words, "capture you, you know, in the first place?"

He sighs in relief and then lays his head back down. "It's not important." His eyes roll up in frustration.

"Baby, you were gone for 3 months, it _is_ important."

His eyes close tightly like he's banishing memories from surfacing and I wonder if I should've brought it up. I'm putting him through that pain again. He takes a swift breath and slides out from under me and rises from the bed.

_Don't run._ "Clark, please." When he pauses at the window, I sit up awkwardly and wait until he's ready.

"At the Talon," he pauses and his fists tighten as he continues to face the window. "I went to grab a cup of coffee, just like I always do on Thursdays before heading to the cemetery."

"They grabbed you in plain sight?"

His head shakes and his shoulders rise slightly as he turns to face me. "I tried to rack my brain nearly every day I was gone, but I don't remember much. All I do remember is that the coffee burned my throat for the first time in my life."

"Kryptonite in your _coffee_?" Shivering, I tug the sheet and quilt up over my crossed legs.

"Yeah," he turns back to the window. "I do remember throwing up green right at Lana's feet when I woke up."

"How could Lana do that to you, Clark? I thought you and she used to, well, love each other?" My mind refuses to believe she ever really knew him.

He turns back to me and sits on the bed, his eyes wide and his jaw tight. "I didn't recognize anything in her; I couldn't, still can't, figure out what changed in her." He rolls his eyes, "And the coffee was literally just the beginning."

After feeling the scars on his arms, I knew that, but my chest is tightening anyway.

"She was so cold; so not herself as she would push Kryptonite into my system every way imaginable and hol-," his throat catches and mine closes. "She would stand there and mark her clipboard as the stuff jacked its way through me, watching me like I was some documentary." His voice deepens, "I hated it."

Closing my eyes, I take in a slow deep breath. Clark's warm hand closes over mine and I fight tears to focus on his concerned face.

"Are you okay?"

I nod, "Yes, just angry." I growl a little. "Clark, I experienced what it felt like to have Kryptonite inside me and it was all I could do to breathe, to-" Swiping tears, I put my hand up to stop his comforting embrace. "And Ollie said something about Kryptonite b- bracelets? Is that true? How, how could you endure the constant restraints, let alone all she did to you?"

He stands and tugs his large hands through his hair, holding it back off his forehead as his jaw tightens. "A Kryptonite mist filled my room more than once. I couldn't breathe…" He shakes his head and takes a shallow breath, trying to maintain his composure even as tears spill out from under his raging brows.

My heart breaks. Rising, "Sweetheart," I run to him, stroke his arms, and lift his fists up to my lips, hungrily kissing his white knuckles.

He takes a breath and focuses on me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen on him. "That wasn't the worst part," he chokes out.

_There's more?_ I can't speak without bawling, so I hold my lips tightly shut and look up into his darkened green eyes.

"It was you."

"Me? I-"

"She would threaten me with you." He pulls back an inch and turns his wet eyes up to the ceiling. "And I was completely at her mercy without knowing where you were or if you were even still ali-." His chest bucks and I wrap my arms around him. His face falls against the top of my shoulder and he struggles to breathe as his whole body racks in sobs.

His hands grip my hair, my arms as I hold onto him, "Baby, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." I let my hands run through his hair, slide across his cheek, whatever I can do to soothe him, as my own tears run unchecked down my face.

Moving to my waist, his hands squeeze me as he takes in a desperate breath. Turning his face into my hair, he pushes into my neck and inhales deeply against my skin, seeking comfort. I raise my arms out of his way and push my fingers into the back of his hair. "I love you, Clark, I love you," I whisper over and over into his ear, his hair.

His movements turn frantic as his lips find my neck, my earlobe. As I absorb the electricity around him, he lifts me into the air and wedges me against the wall. His coated voice begs, "Beth" as his lips cover my throat, my chin and finally my mouth, halting my cries.

The hot searing wetness between our tongues, our lips and even the tears between our cheeks fuels our desire. I lift my legs around his waist and whine shrilly at the strength of his hand pushing my hip back and his fingers burrowing urgently into my hungry core.

Toying with me, in and out, he grunts into my mouth at the cries escaping my throat, sliding me up and down the smooth surface of the wall. The stimulation compounds until I can barely get enough oxygen and he guides himself into me as his thumbs press into my nipples erratically. It's more than I can take and I shatter in his capable hands, screaming out before falling useless against him.

Holding me steady, he walks me to our bed and descends over me, plunging vigorously until he's satiated. Rolling onto his back, he pulls me up onto his chest and I pant until we both calm in the beaming sunshine.

"I wish I could've found you," I whisper into the smoothness of his chest. "I don't know how you made it through all that knowing you'd never be able to escape unless they made a mistake."

I can feel my body rise as he takes a settling breath and stretches his neck, throwing his head back a bit. "They did finally make a mistake. They hired a nurse, a compassionate nurse." His voice growls.

"Why would they risk that? It seems like they had you right where they wanted you."

"They hired Miss Colleen because Lana was incapable of stitching up my wounds." His eyes pop open and they scan the ceiling like the memories are up there. "I got a serious infection because I couldn't heal."

_Because of the Kryptonite_. My spine chills over and I can feel my breaths cease as he continues.

His eyes soften. "She got me a pillow, a blanket and some antibiotics, but of course, they don't work on me. I found out later that Lana had to finally take my restraints all the way off to save me."

Tears spill over my lashes at the cruelty and I pray fervently, _Thank you, God, for that healing ability of his_.

I can feel the bed jiggle and instantly Clark's hands are pushing into my hair and laying it down onto my skin, stroking heavily. I hear him take in a deep breath and feel his body harden under mine. "Beth," he lifts his head and pushes his lips against the top of my hair.

My body melts into his and I can feel my legs stretching in anticipation of excitement. Lifting my head, I rest my chin on his chest and try to smile happily at him, but with the movement, the room spins and my stomach flips. "Ungh," I moan and slam my eyes shut.

His hands halt instantly, "Are you okay?" Opening my eyes, I see his brows bent in concern.

Swallowing hard against the building nausea, I choke out, "Sorr- I'm feel sick," a burp rolls up and I cover my mouth and try to climb off of him swiftly and awkwardly.

"Hey," he guides me to a sitting position and tugs my hair back to look into my face as I bend over my knees, still holding my mouth. "Are you in pain? I don't feel any-"

"It's morning sickness, but" I take a shallow breath and he pulls me against him and lays his hand on my forehead. "I thought it was over."

"You probably need to eat," he coos. He's right, of course, but the sound of food turns my stomach some more and I pull out of his grip and lumber to the bathroom as fast as I can. I hear him whine through the door as I lift the toilet cover, "I'll fix you something right now."

--

"Nn-guh," she retches tightly, but by the sound of it she doesn't spit up anything. Running my fingers through my hair, I wonder if I should fix her something or rush her to a hospital.

Speeding down the stairs, I pour up a glass of orange juice and set the table while I pull out eggs and bread.

Minutes later, she trudges down the stairs. I step toward her and watch as she smells the air and then stops dead in her tracks, her face turning white.

"Sweetheart," I superspeed to her side and wrap my arm around her waist. "I've got you."

"Clark!" She barks and leans against me anyway. "What have you made down here?" Her expression has changed from anger to disgust.

"Breakfast." When her face doesn't change, I define some more, "Eggs and toast."

She swallows hard and puts her hand up to stop. "I can't."

"Come on," I nudge her forward and walk with her the rest of the way. "Just try some juice, okay?"

"That smell," she turns her nose up as she sits on the kitchen chair. "It's offensive."

"What smell?" I search the room, "the eggs?"

Her eyes won't meet mine, but she picks up the glass and sips the orange juice anyway. "Mmm, that's good." She drinks some more and sits back into the chair, smiling weakly.

Encouraged by her comment, I pull out her plate and set it in front of her. "You need to eat."

Her nose wrinkles again and she looks up at me helplessly. "Clark, I don't think I can." She covers her mouth with her fingers.

Squatting down beside her, I beg, "For me, please, would you nibble the toast a little?" I don't know my wife with pregnancy, but I know when my wife needs food. "It's late already; you're probably half-starved."

Her shoulders slump and she pushes the plate away but picks up the toast with 2 fingers like it might bite her. She looks down at me as she places it against her lips and pauses, "Please don't watch me eat; aren't you eating?"

I jump and grab my plate from the warm oven, "Yes, sorry." Pouring some coffee, I take the two mugs to the table and sit with my wife for breakfast. "Here," I push her mug toward her as she nibbles the toast. "It's decaf."

Her eyes pop up to mine in surprise and then she smiles sweetly as she pulls the mug to her lips with her hands wrapped around it protectively, "Thanks, babe."

I'm thrilled that she's feeling better already, but I consciously choose to not point it out. "We need to talk about your prenatal care; what we're going to do."

She wipes her fingers on a napkin, picks up her fork nonchalantly and pushes the egg around her plate. "I don't know what to do. We can't exactly go back to my doctor and say, 'oops, I'm still pregnant'." She rolls her eyes. "Do we need to do anything? I mean, women have been having babies since the Garden of Eden, well, after anyway." She smiles at her quip. I watch as she eats every last lump of scrambled egg and then push her plate away, and I smile on the inside.

Considering her words, I pick up my coffee and settle into the back of my chair. _No, that won't work_. Setting my cup down briskly, I lean toward her and bore into her blue eyes, "But you're not having a regular baby." That scares me.

It doesn't take long before fear fills her eyes, "I don't know what to do."

My ears pick up her pulse quickening. _Great, now you've freaked her out._ Laying my hand on hers, I force a smile and coo gently, "It'll be okay, we'll figure it out."

It's working, her heart is settling slightly and she smiles, blinking back her tears. "Yeah, I guess calling your mom wouldn't help, huh?"

I smile at her suggestion, "Nope, she'd say we're in 'new territory'." With the brightness back in Beth's eyes, I take a sip of my coffee and rise from the table. "I need to take care of the animals, if that's alright."

Her eyes search the kitchen and she looks up at me distractedly, "Yeah, I'm going to make some more toast, if that's alright."

"Sure." She rises from the table and I catch her arm and give her a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."

She touches my jaw and studies my lips before leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. As she pulls away, she smiles with a twinkle in her eyes and smacks my backside. "Get to work, Clark Jerome Kent!"

I square my shoulders, "Yes ma'am!" and chuckle as I push on the screen door.

--


	16. Chapter 16

**Helpful**

Someone's calling loudly. My heart leaps. _Who could it be?_ Peaking out the bedroom window, I smile at the site of Oliver Queen's car parked next to our truck.

"Clark! Beth! Are you here?" Their voices are loud and almost in a panic as I walk into the kitchen.

"Hey guys, sorry I didn't hear you, I was blow-drying my hair."

Chloe's bright and fresh face relaxes into a smile, but Oliver angrily wraps his fingers around my arm. "Beth," he grunts impatiently, "You need to be more careful! What if I was Lex Luthor just walking in?"

My heart skips at his words, but I can't control the smile on my face as I reply, grabbing his arms back, "Then, I'd be asking how you got past Oliver Queen's men."

He steps back from me in frustration and I immediately regret my playful response. "Look, Luthor's men tried again late last night…" At my gasp, he swallows and speaks again with his voice lighter, "We, uh, my men stopped them though, so…" He stops awkwardly and looks to Chloe for help.

Trying to breathe, I dab at the tears leaking from my eyes as Chloe pushes past her boyfriend, "Ollie, lighten up." She embraces me warmly. "A girl can't give up her blowdryer for any reason." With her back to him, she rolls her eyes and grins at me. "Where's Clark? Ollie and I need to talk to both of you."

I glance at the clock and stammer, "I, I'm surprised you didn't run into him outside, he went to do his chores over an hour ago." At Chloe's brows folding in concern, I wave her off, "He probably ran out to fix a fenceline or buy lumber." _But the truck is here_.

Oliver's hands come up in a truce, "Would you ladies please go get him while I set up my laptop?"

"Sure." Grinning nervously, Chloe wraps her arm around mine and we walk to the back door. Stepping out into the sunshine, she keeps glancing at me as we walk past the purple morning glories. "You are so pretty today."

"I am?" I sniff.

"Yeah," she tips her head energetically, "I think you're glowing." She emphasizes the last word and I tsk her for making fun.

Looking out toward the fields, I stop and speak clearly into the fresh spring air, "Clark, Ollie and Chloe are here." With no response or wind gust, I shrug and Chloe lets go of my arm to walk toward the barn. I follow, calling, "Clark?"

The barn is empty. The animals are all out in the fields and the air is still around us. A chill runs up my spine as we walk toward the opposite end. "Clark!" Chloe yells with a little more attitude.

"He's not in here, Chloe." I can hear worry in my voice as we approach the last stall.

"No one's in here." She exaggerates.

I freeze and my heart stops. "NO!" I scream and I can hear Chloe gasp next to me as she follows my line of sight through the outside door where we see legs lying in the dirt; long legs, his legs and his boots. He's still.

"Clark!" We run to him and Chloe climbs over his prone body just as I get a good look at him. He's conscious, but clearly struggling to stay so. "God, Clark, I guess they missed one. I'm so sorry." She tugs at his stiffness, pulling him onto his back.

He groans and instantly I can feel my veins begin to sting, my legs collapsing under my weight. "Nnno."

"Beth, get back!" Chloe screams and Clark's eyes focus and widen in fear at me, his body cruelly immovable.

It's all I can do to stay on my feet with my eyes fixated on my weakened husband, but I throw myself backward and end up on my backside in the dirt. "Baby," I choke, hoping I can still scoot back.

Chloe works feverishly to find the green rock that is crippling us, digging under Clark's arms and trying to roll him toward her. My lungs constrict as I try to climb up onto my knees without moving forward. Grasping frantically at the door frame, I lean my head against it for a second to try and breathe and psyche myself up to move.

"Chloe! Beth!" Oliver's voice booms behind us.

Chloe looks up desperately and screams, "Help me, I can't find the Kryptonite!"

Oliver appears in my peripheral vision just a split second before I feel his hands clamp firmly under my arms. "Beth, come on," he grunts as he lifts my weight off the ground, "I've got you."

The pain rips through me at the movement and I try not to fight him. There! "Chlo-" I scream out weakly with little strength, and as he drags me away from the door I let my hand hang down to point at a pile of Kryptonite along the barn wall. _It's glowing green right there!_

Chloe screeches and clambers to her feet to go where I pointed. Oliver sets me down gently against the last stall, "Is this better? Are you okay?"

I barely register his questions or my lungs opening up because my eyes are glued to Clark's unmoving legs. "Please!" I shriek.

Oliver gives up on getting a response from me and moves to help Chloe just as Clark's legs slide away from my view. "God, Clark, I'm so sorry."

There's silence as I finally move freely and awkwardly to my knees.

"Beth!" A jean-clad knee appears in front of me and large warm hands tug upward on my shoulders.

"Clark!" I sputter and rise, fighting tears as I focus on his beautiful pain-free face. "Hng," my chest bucks and I bury my face in his and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Are you okay?" His arms tighten around me and his hand opens on the back of my head, holding me against him.

I can't answer, all I can do is cry from the relief, the anger, and the pain I felt; just boohoo into his t-shirt and hold on. In the background, I can hear Oliver saying something to Clark about taking those rocks away for him and meeting in the house shortly.

"Thanks, Ollie, we'll be right in." His deep voice resonates through me.

Letting go of his waist, I feel him loosening his hold so I can back up a little. Wiping my eyes, I look up into his face, his green eyes are filled with concern and relief, too, as I beg, "Are _you_ okay?"

He smiles sweetly, twisting something in my gut, "I'm fine." He answers confidently but lifts up on my chin and reprimands gently, "But you scared me."

"Wha-!?" I suck in air and poke my finger into his chest. "I scared _you_? You've got that backwards, mister!"

--

Man, she's beautiful; her blue eyes are lit up by the daylight streaming through the door behind me. I can't help laughing out loud at her change in mood and funny response.

"Who are you laughing at?" She teases and her glowing skin pinks up around her cheeks even as her eyes twinkle. All too swiftly, though, her bottom lip quivers and she fights to maintain her smile. "How can you laugh?"

I shrug my shoulders and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her to my side. The last thing I want is for her to hurt or cry some more. "You make me laugh," I point at her as we walk together toward the house, "and you'd better learn to expect it, 'cause you help me cope. If I don't laugh, I'll go crazy."

She studies my eyes and sobers a bit, but squeezes my waist and leans her head against my arm, "You're right, it may take me some time to adjust, but I will try to take it as in stride as you do. What else can we do, anyway? Move to Mars?"

I stop dead in my tracks and pull her to face me. Squeezing her waist, I tug her up into the air just high enough to kiss her firmly on the lips. She gasps for air against me and buries her fingers deliciously into my hair, kissing me fully. Knowing Chloe and Oliver are waiting on us, I reluctantly pull from her and set her back on her feet on the gravel driveway. She doesn't let go of my hair, so I stay stooped in front of her and allow my fingers the privilege to stroke the soft skin on her neck. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

Her lips stretch into a content smile and she lets go of my hair to brush away a tear. "Not in the last few minutes, of course, but a girl always loves to hear it."

--

With his arm around my waist and his smile burning a hole into my heart, I walk happily with Clark back to the farmhouse he grew up in. I feel like I can face anything, even pregnancy and giving birth, with this amazing man by my side.

Stepping through the screen door, we approach two smiling blondes in our own living room. Oliver gestures for us to sit and then raises his hands, "I'm here," Chloe clears her throat and Oliver glances at her approvingly, "That's right, _We_ have a plan!" He crosses his arms across his broad chest and smiles confidently.

--


	17. Chapter 17

**Hands of Time**

_Four months later…_

Standing in front of Clark in our yard, I wave as my parents' car, complete with dusty Arizona plates, rolls down the long gravel driveway. Clark's arms fold around my middle and he rests his chin on my shoulder. "It was nice to see them again."

"Yeah," I sniff and dab away tears from my leaky eyes. My throat is tight with emotion.

With his fingers splayed out against my swollen belly, he leans his chestnut waves against my head. "You're going to miss them."

"Yeah." Letting my hands fall, I caress his big loving hands and settle into his embrace. "I just wish they lived a little closer so they could visit more often."

"And for less time." A squeak escapes his throat and he pushes his face into my shoulder. "Don't hurt me!"

I can't help but smile. "What Clark, two weeks too long for you?" I love to tease him.

"It's just," he stutters and I grin some more as his arms and hands go rigid against me; he's thinking how to back-pedal. "I like them very much, it's just trying to keep my secret that long was sticky. And your mom…"

"She likes you very much." I shrug. "But then, what's not to like?"

He smiles out loud; I can feel his breath on my cheek. "I like her too, a lot, she just…"

Peeling his arms off me, I turn and wrap my arms around his neck and smile up at his sun-dappled green eyes. "What?"

His eyes roll nervously even as I stroke his hair. "She does things, things that are my job."

"Like what?" I'm seriously curious now.

"Like making the coffee before I get to it, or getting a cushion for your back," his arm flies out in gesture, "Or sending food out to Oliver's men and, um, well cleaning the kitchen." His voice fades and his smile stretches wide, his cheeks reddening, as he realizes those really aren't complaints.

"Aww, poor baby." I can't stop a giggle from bubbling up and he turns a deep crimson even as he smiles pitifully. "She's positively evil." His squirming always makes me want to kiss him.

--

Her giggle tickles me down to my toes and I can't keep a smile from stretching my own lips.

"They won't be back again until after the baby's born," She reassures me, but the light in her eyes changes as she hears her own words.

"I'm sorry." Truly, I am, I know what it's like to miss your parents. "Your mom really is sweet." I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand while I squeeze her waist with my other.

Her feet shift and she pushes her belly into mine, leaning against me a little. Her expression changes and she looks up to me with a glow in her eyes. "She gave me something that I'm sure will help repay you for all your pain and suffering." Her smile is back and teasing.

Grateful she's not making me regret sharing my insecurities, I open my legs wide to get closer to her height. "Oh, yeah, what could that be? She gave us quite a bit as it was." Her eyes go distant for a second and then her lids droop heavily as her lips stretch into a sensual grin. Paying close attention, I can hear her pulse speed up and feel her fingers tighten on the back of my neck. I'm so curious what her mom gave her that's turning her on.

"It's a little black nightgown and I'll have to show it to yo-" Her lips go slack and her eyelids fall in pleasure as I stroke her neck and collar bone softly with my thumbs.

"Why do we need to wait?" I can hear the desire in my own voice and it surprises us both. Her dilated blue eyes pop up and she studies my eyes, like she's memorizing me. "We're alone and my chores are-"

She tugs me forward and I let her; her lips seal over mine, halting my useless words. My eyes close and I pull her closer, deepening our kiss. I can hear our breaths quicken together, and my desire explodes.

--

His massive hand slides up the back of my neck, lifting my hair and cupping my head, as he pushes his tongue into my mouth. Electricity surges through me like lightning, my knees faltering, and I dig my fingers into his chest for stability as a moan escapes my laboring lungs. As much as I want him to make love to me right now, I'm in heaven with him touching and kissing me in the warm spring sunshine.

He pulls back and holds his hands up to me, "I'll be right back."

Feeling unsteady on my feet, I try to stop him, but my hair flies forward, and typical of my husband, before I can take a breath, his lips are on mine again. His hands slip behind my shoulders and thighs at just the moment my legs lose their strength. I break the kiss as his strong arms lift me up to his chest. "Home, James." I command weakly, trying unsuccessfully to smile through the tension gripping my face.

His pupils darken and his jaw tightens, answering me, "As you wish." My hair blows back and instantly I feel him lay me down in the dappled sunshine on a cool cotton quilt. Glancing away for a split second, I realize we are in full privacy between the barn and the winter grasses waving in the gentle breeze. Clark's strong fingers lift up on my head, bringing me back to the moment, and he pushes a blue pillow from our sofa under me. Letting my head sink into the softness, I whimper out loud at the look of possessiveness in his eyes as his hands part my knees.

My surrender is assured.

--

Swallowing back my heart from my throat, I knock on the door of Oliver Queen, Esquire.

Mr. Queen opens his own door and greets me with a warm smile on his face, "Come in, Mrs. Joyner."

With my heart still racing, I step into his office. It's warm and cozy, but pretty makeshift for one of the richest men in the world, and my friend and boss.

"Would you take a-."

"Mr. Queen," I turn around to face him. He glances down at my wringing hands and his face tightens as he studies me. I can't speak through his hard gaze.

"Miss Colleen," He touches my shoulder gently, "Is everything okay with Beth Kent?" His words are clipped and panicked.

"Yes, sir," I sigh shakily and watch him calm, "This is about the Luthors."

Both of his hands cup my shoulders and his brown eyes fill with deep concern. "Maybe you _should_ sit down, Miss Colleen?"

Nodding absently, I choke out, "Thanks." Taking the chair offered, I'm surprised when he pulls another one up to mine and plops down in front of me instead of sitting coolly behind his desk.

Leaning forward onto his knees, he asks patiently, "Is this about the case?"

After a quick breath, I dive in, "No sir, I just saw Mr. Luthor out on the street, entering the coffee shop. Here. About ten minutes ago."

His demeanor relaxes and he sits back, "Yes."

With his unruffled reaction, I point out, "Sir, with the Kents coming here weekly for prenatal care, well, I'm surprised you're so calm about this." I frown at him, "You _do_ believe me, don't you?"

Oliver Queen stands and faces the window, running his hand through his stubbly blonde locks. "I believe you."

His answer it too confident and emotionally I blurt out, "You _knew_ he was here."

He turns to me. "Yes, my men have been following his every move and they told me of his presence here in Star City almost two days ago. Did he see you?"

"No, I don't think so." His expression doesn't change. "You don't seem worried."

"I'm not worried that he'll discover the Kents' secret, but," he takes a relieving breath and wrinkles his brow nervously, "he met with me this morning about the Federal charges being brought against him."

"You met with him?" I take a deep tense breath. "Sir, the Kents are coming _today_." I hate it that I sound like a mother to this young man.

"Mrs. Joyner," His hands pop up defensively. "Like I said, I've got him under constant surveillance and the Kents will be heavily guarded from the moment they step onto my chopper until they are back safely at their farm, not just during their visit to this building."

"Yes, sir, sorry." Slightly relieved but mystified at his willingness to meet with my old boss, I stand to leave. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Come and talk to me anytime," He smiles genuinely as he holds the door open for me.

"Sir, I wanted to tell you one more thing." His eyebrows go up and his smile vanishes. "Thank you, sir, for my job, but especially for taking care of the Kents. What you're doing for them is above and beyond, well, it's alien."

His eyes widen for a second, but he ducks his head and smiles shyly; a shyness probably non-existing in most powerful men of his stature. "Thank you, Miss Colleen. _You_ are doing so much for them and my work, as well."

--


	18. Chapter 18

_With the cold steel of Lex's gun pointed at Beth's temple and his arm around her delicate neck, I hold my breath and feel my heart sink. The confidence in Clark's face gives me little hope for a good outcome. "Don't move, Clark!" The tip pushes hard against her brow bone and she whimpers at the force as Lex yells desperately at my angel. "This has a meteorite bullet. If I miss her, I'll get you. One way or another, I'll have an alien to study for the good of mankind." The gun pushes into Beth's skin again and she tugs at his arm around her neck for some relief, gulping in air at the quick opening. I want to tug on his arm, too._

_My blood pressure intensifies and I take a steadying breath. Leaning against the side of the ambulance opening, I wonder. Along with the presence of a gun, he must be saying whatever he can to placate this sweet couple into getting the help they need. He told me the gun was empty; just an empty threat. My hands twist in my lap. Why are the Luthors taking such a chance with this approach when their goal is to keep the half-alien infant safe?_

_Clark studies his wife's face, his eyes wide. I don't know how Beth knows, but her features tighten in pain and she nods sadly at him. Lex is telling the truth. Clark swallows hard and tightens his fists, but I can see him thinking of a solution and I don't want him to get hurt. I don't want either one of them to get hurt._

"_Don't.." Beth chokes out brokenly with Lex's arm pressing against her larynx, begging with her eyes for him to vanish. She relaxes a bit in Lex's hold and so do I. For whatever reason, she wants Clark to capitulate, mirroring my thoughts. Her eyes close and tears slip out as her hand falls from her captor's arm. She looks absolutely broken knowing she's taking Lex's side over Clark's. If only I could convince them Lex has the safest plan._

_Clark flinches at her surrender. His eyes fill with tears and his jaw tightens, "Lex, be careful. She is in labor." His voice is broken but deep._

"_Yeah, Clark, that's why I'm here. I've been waiting for this moment since I found out your secret. Do you seriously want to risk her life?" Lex re-aims his gun at her, barely taming a grin of victory._

_As if on cue, Beth grabs her stomach with her free hand and struggles to be still. A moan escapes her throat unbidden apparently as her eyes widen in fear in front of them. Her legs tense up and she tugs for a more comfortable position. "Clar-.." she moans, holding her hands up for him to stay back even though her eyes are begging for him to help._

"_Be still!" Lex warns as he fights to keep his hold around her, the band on his wristwatch tangling and yanking on a lock of Beth's hair. "Don't even think about.."_

_Think about what? I blink rapidly to understand what's going on, because Clark has disappeared._

_There's a scuffle and I feel a gunshot pierce my eardrum. Covering my ears, I look up from my self-protecting huddle to see Clark and Beth both falling to the platform. "No!" I scream at them, at Lex. This wasn't supposed to happen._

_I watch Beth curl up on her knees, wrapping her arm around her stomach, and cry out painfully into the pavement. Recognizing intense labor, I grab my bag from the ambulance floor and step forward. But as Clark hits the surface and rolls to his back, I stop dead in my tracks. His face is red and contorted in the most pain-filled and desperate expression I've ever seen on him, ten times worse than what I witnessed at Love Lost Sanitarium. He twists unnaturally to see his wife as he groans and wraps his arms around his own stomach and chest. There's blood filling and darkening the fibers of his blue t-shirt._

"_No!" I scream and realize Beth has done the same thing. Her head is up and her hand held out, reaching for my angel. She's seen what I've seen. This was not supposed to happen! "Mr. Luthor!"_

"_Clark!" Beth cries out again. As I get closer, I see Clark shuddering in pain under his wife's touch. Truly, if there was meteor in that bullet, and if Lex told me the truth, then my angel is slowly dying in front of my eyes. "No, NO, you can't…" Beth screeches as her hands tug angrily at his shirt. _

_Before I can do anything, two sets of hands are tugging her up from the ground, dragging her roughly to her feet, away from Clark, away from her safety, her lifeline. "Let's go, Beth, you have a responsibility to see this through." Lex's attempt at gentle manipulation after brute force falls on deaf ears as she fights to get back to Clark. _

"_Lex, he's dying!" She screams and tries to bite at, or scrape with her fingernails, the hands that hold her hostage. "You can't leave him here, we have to save him." Tears are blinding me now as I watch them tug her backwards. I take a step forward to help my angel when two other men pass me and put their hands on Clark. No. Beth shrieks behind me, "Don't touch him!"_

"_God, Beth, you must be pregnant!" Lex snaps sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Make up your mind. Help him or not?" If he didn't have a loaded gun, I'd slap him right now. He was confidently noble when he convinced me they would need the best in science and medicine to help with this birth and baby. But now, I see a heartless and cruel presence._

_I step out of the path to the ambulance as they lift Clark's tortured form from the platform. But to my horror, they move away, carrying my angel to the edge of the rickety platform and dump him over, hundreds of feet into the rocky quarry. Once again, Beth and I scream in tandem, "NOO!" _

"_She's fainting, grab her!" Lex Luthor bellows out impatiently._

_The Luthor men effortlessly scoop Beth's lifeless body up onto a gurney they brought in preparedness. What I just witnessed makes me want to vomit, literally, and I lift the IV bag I'm holding up to my forehead to act as a cold compress. I can't believe they just killed him. Lex Luthor killed Clark Kent._

"_Miss Colleen!" Mr. Luthor calls out across the windy spans and I take a shallow breath to try and compose myself, wiping my tears. Why isn't he yelling at his men for defying him?_

_A hand grips my arm and yanks me back to face the barrel of his gun. "Mr. Luth-," I choke out, trying to swallow my spit. "You-.."_

"_Pull it together Miss Colleen, Beth Kent is in labor and currently unable to deliver her own baby." I jerk back and am instantly privy to the men strapping her lifeless body onto a gurney. He tugs his hand off my arm and straightens his tie as I watch the gun and try to breathe. "Your job is no different…"_

_I finally find my tongue, my courage, "You said they would both live! Everybody would win…" I step to the edge of the platform and feel my heart slam into my chest cavity at the site of Clark Kent lying broken and still in the limestone below. "How could you…" I turn to face him, to spit on him or choke the life out of him. "He was your best friend..," I whisper._

"_That was a hundred years ago, and now that we have his baby, you and I do not need to concern ourselves with that corpse any longer. Finally, I will have some peace!" He wipes the spit from his chin and gestures for me to walk his way. Unable to save my angel, I do as directed with the little strength I have. Clark's angel is waiting in the ambulance, unknowingly about to give away her child and quite possibly straight into lifelong torture; I know that full-well now. She's waiting for me to save her. And save her I will. Lex Luthor's puppet strings are effectively cut._

_Climbing into the back of the rig, I buckle myself in and turn back at a cacophonous clamor vibrating the air around us. Just as a Luthor goon closes the ambulance doors, I see through the tiny window a crane moving, its engine barreling under strain of a full bucket. As our rig pulls away, I watch as the crane drops its load, probably two tons of limestone, onto a precise target, burying the remains of our beloved alien and friend, Clark Kent. _

_Leaning over Beth Kent's legs, I struggle to breathe as sob after sob rolls from my chest. "What have I done?"_

_Opening my eyes, I see a white room that is fully equipped for birthing, including some items I wouldn't expect; a portable x-ray machine, an eerily familiar metal briefcase, leather straps laid loosely over the infant basinet, three I.V. stands pre-hung with colorful bags; one clear for saline, one red with blood, and one filled with a sickly green fluid that reminds me of meteor rocks. _

_Beth cries out. Smelling salts did the trick, she is awake and fully in labor, panting and grunting through each contraction. Tears flow down her cheeks unchecked. She won't make eye contact with me; she just holds her swollen stomach and hiccups on a sob every few seconds. Desolate. _

_I feel for her, she's been betrayed and her soul mate brutally murdered right in front of her eyes; and about to deliver her child into the hands of her husband's killer. _

_Two male nurses enter the room and I snap at them in anger, "Don't touch her!" They look up at me as if to say they would help me if they could. Who could get out of the Luthor grip? Struggling with Beth's curled up form, they tug at her maternity jeans until she is stripped from the waist down and promptly covered with a blanket. While one nurse rolls a stand and stirrups into place, the other pulls an I.V. packet from its wrapper._

_Running my hands through my hair, I look up to the ceiling and pray to the God of the universe with my whole heart that this didn't happen. That I'm dreaming, and when I awake, the Kents will be in the hospital with a new baby in their arms._

"_Miss Joyner," a male voice interrupts my thoughts and I look down to see a packet of intravenous tubing in his hands and a grim expression on his face. I'm to run the central line for Beth Kent and then watch them… _

"_You're going to take her child…" I choke out with tears blocking my sight. Undeterred, he tilts his head and I follow his line of sight to a surveillance camera sweeping the room slowly. The nurse clears his throat and I take the needle resolutely. She needs to deliver this child no matter what happens._

_The fetal monitor indicates that labor is now in final stages and the nurse adjusts the Pitocin in Beth's I.V. appropriately. Just as she bears down in a massive contraction, the nurses lift her legs and begin securing her feet into the Velcro-closure stirrups. A keening scream escapes her throat and she kicks weakly to free herself. As the contraction passes, she scrambles to sit up and tugs at the stirrups with her own hands. "No, you-, you can't have my baby!" She sobs._

_I try to cajole her, the stirrups will make delivery more comfortable after all, but she won't calm down. She won't even look at me. She won't trust me and my heart twists at that realization._

_Expensive leather shoes make quick pace across the floor and I look up to see Lex loosen his tie as he growls at all of us in charge, "Do I have to do this myself?!" To my horror, Lex tugs his tie off and wraps it around Beth's throat, tightening until she reaches up to try and loosen it for air. "We can't have you hurting yourself or the baby,  
Beth, you WILL be still." She gasps, her eyes wide in fear, and she focuses on me hoping I'll help her. _

_My lungs constrict in sympathy, and I choke out, "Lex, you're killing her!"_

_Lex tucks his face beside hers as she chokes, rubbing his bare head against her silky hair, and lowers his voice, "Are you going to be still?"_

_Her eyes close and she nods her head. What else can she do?_

_Slowly and deliberately, he pulls her back down and holds her to the gurney while he eyes his men angrily. "Her hands, gentlemen!"_

_The men don't have to pry too hard at her hands as a new contraction is paralyzing her. Lex allows little air while they buckle her hands to the sides of her bed. "Okay, Lex, let her breathe!" I choke out, desperate to choke him with my own hands!_

_Lex turns sideways and readjusts his tie, keeping it on her throat, as he begins tying it to the bed. He mumbles as he works, "My dad used to take me boating, it will be wonderful to teach Clark junior all the workings of life." He smiles down at her as she groans mournfully in pain, tears flowing steadily from her desolate eyes. _

"_Lex, what are you doing?" I bellow at him. When he looks up to me innocently, I try to reason with him. "You'll be starving the baby of oxygen, too."_

_He gestures smoothly with his hand, "Actually, if Beth will be still, the tourniquet will not tighten. It's an ingenious knot, really, one my father taught me years ago." Placing his manicured hand on Beth's protruding stomach, he focuses on her flooded blue eyes and smiles evilly, "You understand that, right? Moving means strangulation."_

_It was more of a statement than a question and Beth keeps her focus on him without nodding or shaking her head. "Yes," she bites out bitterly._

_To our relief, Lex leaves the room, and I move to Beth's side and grip her hand in mine. Focusing on her blue eyes, I beg her for forgiveness, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I fell for Lex's lies. I know this is hard, but Clark would want you around to take care of this baby. I'm going to help you through this birth, okay?"_

"_Coll-," she swallows softly and her chest hiccups on air, "they can't have Clark's bab-…"_

"_Shhh," I stroke her face and whisper back to her, "I won't let them; we'll get out of this."_

"_Pr-, promise me.." She begs me with her eyes and then a moan pours from her throat and her hands and knees stand up in tension as another contraction tears through her body._

_With my hand on her stomach and the fetal monitor beeping loudly, I know this contraction will be agonizing but crucial. Stroking her cheek, I try to encourage, "With all my heart, I promise, angel. But, I need you to push, now."_

_--_

_There's a pounding around me and I gasp as the door in front of my knees opens. A light fills the small dark closet and blinds me painfully. Pulling my forearm up a little, I try to cover my eyes unsuccessfully. A man I've never seen assesses me and to my surprise, he backs up and barks into a communication device. "I have positive acquisition, Floor 3, SE corner, quadrant CW." His hands fall and he backs into the open door, leaning on it. He never speaks to me or to his walky-talky again. I hug my load tightly and let my tears flow some more._

"_Miss Colleen!" A familiar voice fills my dark hole and I shudder. "Mrs. Joyner," he lowers his voice and I flinch as Oliver Queen's hand touches my arm._

"_No!" I bark. He can't have my load, no one can. "I gave my word." My voice sounds high-pitched and foreign to me._

"_Oh God!" Mr. Queen eyes my load and whines, tugging his hand over his face. A few labored breaths later, he strokes my shoulder soothingly, and speaks brokenly, "Okay, it's okay, Miss Colleen. Everything will be alright." Mr. Queen coos and he and his friend reach in to help me to stand. I should be fighting him, but I feel more secure with him than I ever did with Lex Luthor._

_They guide me into a wheelchair and I'm relieved; I don't think my legs could carry me even one step. "Clark …promised to save her," I moan, folding my arms across my load protectively as they prop my feet on the footrests._

_Mr. Queen squats next to me and touches my shoulder again, "This wasn't your fault, Miss Colleen." His frightened teary eyes lock into mine and I slam my eyes shut at the emotion._

_Much vibration later, I hear a new and familiar voice echo on the wind, "Miss Colleen!" My heart twists at the sound and I gasp at the sensation. I must be hearing things. Yes, I'm hearing voices, sad men, talking slowly. _

"_Miss Colleen," the voice is his and he's right in front of me. I have to see; I have to know._

_I open my eyes and instantly I can't see; my eyes are filling with tears faster than I can blink them away. My "angel…" is in front of me. His sad green eyes are searching mine for recognition. You're alive. How can he be alive? I saw them kill him. But it's him, his thick black hair is shifting across his forehead in the wind. _

"_Miss Colleen." His hands are held to me. I want to jump into his arms and feel the life in him. I want to touch his golden skin. But my arms are cramped._

"_Please, Miss Colleen," he begs again. God, he looks so sad. Why is he so sad? He's alive. "May I see…?" His breaths are broken. What can I do to save him from this sorrow?_

_His fingers are warm on my arms. God, he is alive. And she is his. I have to… He pulls my arms open. And I'm letting him. She belongs to him. My chest bucks as my cramped arms unfold, and I cry through my strangled throat, "I tried to save her."_

_His eyes pop up to mine again and tears flow down his cheeks, anew. "I know," he mumbles tightly. "Thank you."_

_He lifts my load up and pulls away. The warmth from my chest leaves me and I wrap my arms around my empty chest again. I need to touch him, his hair, his face, I need to soothe him. "Angel…" I call out, but my throat betrays me. _

_He peels the blanket back from his load and a cry rips from his throat. "No, please," he whimpers in the wind. Through tears in his eyes, he studies the baby and smiles so sadly. I need to comfort him. "You're beautiful, sweetheart," he coos and cries again, touching the soft dimpled fingers. His pout makes him look like a little boy and I have to wrap him up and protect him from the cruel world. _

"_Angel," I whisper as I'm wheeled farther away._

"_There's someone here who wants to meet you." He chokes over the baby, his tears making permanent tracks across his rock-hard jaw. Dragging his feet over to a stretcher, he leans over a silent woman lying there with her eyes closed. Reddish brown hair blows across her white skin as he lays the baby on her chest. "She looks just like you, Elizabeth." He whimpers and lifts Beth's still arm up from the bed and wraps it across the sweet motionless baby. _

"_Angel." A needle slips into the skin on my arm. _

_Swiping tears from his golden cheek, he leans over Beth and their baby girl and pushes his lips into his wife's neck. The wind blows her hair across his cheek and carries his heart-breaking sobs across the expanse toward me. His knees fail him and a blond man and woman wrap him up in their arms, keeping him from slipping away from his family. _

_I have to be a part of this group hug and I shift my legs to rise from my seat when two doors slam shut in front of me, blocking me from them. No. A siren wails through the air and I scream._

"Angel!"

Sitting up, I look around the small room. The blinds are down at the windows, assuring darkness for the two beds in this on-call room. My panting is the only sound I hear as I push my feet over the bed's edge and drop my face into my hands. I'm not surprised to feel tears and sweat as I roughly swallow back bile.

Instantly, the quiet room is filled with light and bustling noise from the hall. I look up the shaft of blinding light into a young nurse's face. "Mrs. Joyner," she speaks almost too softly. "I'm sorry to bother you, but Mr. Queen asked me," her voice twitters at his name and I realize she is not unlike so many other young female employees here having a crush on him. "to tell you the _Kents_ are on their way." Her brows knit slightly at not understanding the cryptic message.

"Thank you." I dismiss her and hear her giggle softly as the door closes again. My own heart twitters. It was just a dream; a nightmare. "They're still alive." With a new hope, I dab makeup out from under my eyes and shake off the dread from that nightmare. I can't control the smile stretching my face as I walk out into the busy hospital hallway.

--


	19. Chapter 19

She sits across from me in this small helicopter, panting excitedly at the scenery zipping past us. She's been doing that a lot lately, panting. And not from just walking up the stairs or running to get the phone, I've noticed Beth gets out of breath just from crossing to the kitchen or stepping out onto the porch to call me for dinner.

Her electric smile warms my chest and causes my fears to vanish, nearly. "It's beautiful today, don't you think?" Beth's blue eyes cut into my soul with the reflection from the sky all around us.

"You're beautiful, too." I choke out, watching her every move.

"What?" She yells over the hum of this machine.

I nod and smile at her and she grins shyly as her hand glides absently and lovingly over her swollen stomach, a habit she doesn't realize she's picked up. I lean back nervously against the hull as the contraption begins shaking and sputtering toward the earth. There's just something scary about a machine flying in the sky…

"Relax, Clark, we're there!" Beth admonishes my nervousness. She's teased me before about my fears when hardly anything in this world can kill me.

The hum of the blades splits my ear drums as they whine to a stop. The side door pops open and Beth is out of her seat belt and on her feet in eagerness. Wrapping my hands around her, I pull her up off her feet before she can jump down to the chopper pad. "Clark, what?!" She squeals in surprise or frustration, I'm not sure which.

Before she can fight me, I jump down to the surface, making sure to glide softly to my feet. "Please don't be mad; I just want to protect you." I whisper in her ear before I set her down.

Her hands slide around my neck, tugging me over her tummy toward her. I oblige her as she pulls my ear to her soft lips. "I love you, Clark Kent."

Her hands slip down my chest as I stand upright, an untamable grin stretching my face. Reaching for her hand, I nudge her forward, "Shall we?"

She pulls a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and grins up at me, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. "Yes, let's-"

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent!" One of Oliver's men steps forward, his arms up toward us protectively. "Sorry to interrupt, but I am under strict orders to escort you at once to your destination."

Beth's smile vanishes as I wrap my arm around her back and we both step toward the stairway door. Speaking clearly, I ask of our escort, "Has something happened?"

--

Clark's voice is deep; the concern obvious to me. My heart quickens at the implied danger.

"Please stay with me." Oliver's young assistant stays in front of us, guiding the way. "I was not told why, sir, just to keep the two of you in secluded hallways. This way, please."

Clark's long legs follow swiftly and with his arm around my waist, I'm struggling to keep up. "Are we still going to Dr. Shrone's office?" I choke out.

"Thank you, Brad, I'll take it from here." Rounding a turn in the hall, we meet up with the confident voice we know, Oliver. "How was your flight, guys?"

Brad makes his absence and we stop for a much-needed rest. "Goo-," I spit out and bend over my knees.

Clark's hand slides across my back softly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I," I stand up straight to suppress his worry, and grin. "You guys and your long legs…" I tease.

The worry in Clark's face fades only slightly, but he lets it slide.

"Look, I'm sorry for the subterfuge," Oliver apologizes with his hands up in defense, "but, Lex Luthor is in town and I don't want to take any chances." Clark groans and Oliver finishes before he's interrupted. "We're watching him, but you never know what his employees are up to." I can feel Clark's arm tighten around my shoulders. Oliver turns toward me and smiles, "We've temporarily moved Dr. Shrone to this floor, so if you'll follow me, we can get you to your checkup."

"Thanks, Ollie," I mean it and I surprise him with a tight hug around his waist instead of moving in the direction indicated.

"Oh gosh, Beth," he pulls from my grip and looks down at my stomach protruding toward him. "You're sure looking every bit 9 months' pregnant."

"Hey! No more back scratches for you!" I pop him in the ribs. He winces playfully and I giggle. "Which room, Ollie?"

"342, Beth." He rubs his ribs as I step down the hall.

"Watch the teasing, Ollie," I can hear Clark's deep happy voice behind me. "She _is_ pregnant, afterall." I smile at his joke.

--

She turns around to glare at me, her happy eyes belying her less-than insulted mood. "Did somebody say I'm pregnant?"

Smiling at Oliver as she waddles slowly toward the exam room, I chuckle. Her mood is electric!

Dr. Shrone greets us like usual, as friendly and encouraging as a doctor you'd ever want. She takes a moment to look Beth up and down; diagnosing or calculating, whatever goes through her head as a baby doctor. "Miss Elizabeth, I believe the baby has dropped." She holds her hand out and Beth takes it to steady herself as she scoots onto the exam table.

"That's too soon, isn't it?" Beth pants out, worry crossing her face.

"Dr. Shrone," I step forward to interrupt these two women. "What do you mean the baby has dropped? That doesn't sound good."

The doctor pauses at my words and then she blushes lightly, "I'm sorry Mr. Kent, this is a very normal event that occurs at the end of every pregnancy." She gestures to her own stomach, "The baby drops lower into the cavity of the woman's body; moving into place against the birth canal for the right moment." Her smile fades as she realizes Beth is still panting. "Typically, from here out the baby will not turn any longer."

"So, that _does_ seem too soon."

She ignores me and reaches for Beth's wrist, pinching with her fingers. "Miss Elizabeth, are you feeling alright?"

"Yes ma'am," Beth answers brightly, swallowing back her breaths.

Reaching for Beth's hands, she tilts her head, "Why don't you go ahead and lie back. We'll do an ultrasound today just to get some idea of the baby's progress." Beth does as she's told, pulling her knees up to prop her feet on the end of the table. She smiles at me, reassuring us both everything would be okay. "And don't worry, I won't tell you if I see the baby's sex!"

Dr. Shrone moves across the room to wheel the ultrasound equipment to Beth's side and I slip to the other side of the exam table and take my wife's hand in mine. Smiling down at her pink healthy face, I wink confidently.

The doctor moves quickly, hooking up the machine and prepping Beth's skin for the wand to slide easier. She barely gets the wand where she wants it, the blue screen coming to life when Beth takes a shaky breath and her hand twitches weakly in my grip. She's faking a gentle smile when I look up at her again. Her worry is causing me to worry.

"Okay, here," the doctor points at the monitor. "The baby's head is down and facing in the right direction, which is the best possible position for birth."

I feel slightly better. "But is the baby ready for birth?"

The doctor circles and marks images on the screen with her unopen pen. "The baby appears ready for birth, but you never know how developed the lungs will be until it's time to start using them."

My chest tightens. "There's no way to tell?"

"Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?" The doctor asks without looking away from the monitor; her words reminding me Beth has been quiet.

And her hand is still.

"Sweetheart?" Her eyes are closed, her skin pale and bluish. I can feel panic rising in me, "Beth!" Her lips open on a choking sound, but no other response. "Doctor?"

Our doctor has pushed away the machine and is listening to Beth's heartbeat. Looking up at me a little frazzled, she reaches down and grabs onto Beth's jeans. "Help me get her on her side, Mr. Kent!"

Doing as I'm told, I slip my fingers under Beth's shoulder and hip and as the doctor lifts up, I do the same and roll her lifeless form toward me. Slamming my hips against the exam table, I seal off a path for Beth to fall to the floor, while Dr. Shrone releases her to listen again to her heart. Even though she keeps the stethoscope to Beth's chest, when she eyes me, I can't help but ask. "What's happening?"

She lifts a finger to signal me to wait a minute. With my heart hammering in my chest, I squat down in front of my wife and do my own listening. The baby's heartbeat is strong and Beth's is gradually increasing. I'm fearful Beth's heart had stopped and with the mention of the Luthors in town, I wonder if our room or the ultrasound machine was tampered with.

"Clark?"

It's just a whisper, but I can hear and feel it all the way down to my toes. When I focus on her, I realize her eyes are already open and they are questioning. "Hey, welcome back." I can finally breathe again.

Doctor Shrone stands upright and grabs a finger oxygen reader and reaches awkwardly over Beth and between my arms to clamp it onto Beth's finger.

"What's that for?" Beth's voice is shaky but determined.

"Well, young lady, you stopped breathing for a minute and this will tell me if I need to administer oxygen or not."

"I stopped breathing?" Beth's eyes go wide in fear. "Is the..?"

"The baby is fine," I coo confidently and catch the doctor's glare.

"Actually, I need to check the baby, if you don't mind, Mr. Kent?" Frowning, she gestures her arms for me to get out of her way.

I cowtail to her and move away, "Sorry ma'am." After all, she doesn't know I can hear better than humans. But as I let go of my wife and step back, Beth tries to roll onto her back.

"No, no, Miss Elizabeth," the doctor nudges her hip. "I need you to stay on your side for now."

She obeys but pouts in frustration. "What happened?"

The doctor is listening to Beth's tummy and doesn't answer right away. Stroking her soft hair back from her face, I try to answer. "I'm not sure, but I think the Luthors might be at work here. There might be a small piece of meteor rock in here, in your bed or in the ultrasound scanner thing."

"Not again, Clark," Beth's eyes fill with tears and she gasps lightly to keep from crying.

"He's right, the baby is fine." Dr. Shrone smiles at us as she stands upright and wraps her stethoscope around her neck. "And even though I know you have real enemies out there, I can tell you that nothing that diabolical occurred here. There are rare cases where when the mother is on her back, the weight of the baby, the fluid and amniotic sack settle too heavily onto a major artery that leads up from the kidneys to the heart, pinching it and blocking blood flow." She watches our faces change and she adds, "This may never happen again, it's kind of like getting struck by lightening a second time, it is extremely rare. But, as we all know, this pregnancy is special, so you," she strokes Beth's arm, "will _not_ lie on your back for the remainder of this pregnancy, or if you do, will do it only when under constant guard." She eyes me and I nod my commitment.

The doctor pulls down a couple of paper towels and hands them to me. "If you'll help your wife clean up and sit up?"

"Yes ma'am," I nod happily, glad that this checkup is over.

"I'd like you both to join me in the room next door where we can talk." She eyes us authoritatively and we nod meekly before she leaves the room.

With my help, Beth sits up with a grunt. I watch her closely as she takes a breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she makes eye contact with me. "I think I feel just fine."

Hearing Beth's elevated heartrate, I realize she's as nervous as I am.

--


	20. Chapter 20

**Brave Hands**

Stepping through the open doorway, Clark pulls my hand forward so I'll enter first. "Are you ready for us?" He asks timidly.

"Please, come in, and thank you for being quick." Doctor Shrone stands and closes the door behind us.

There are 5 chairs in this makeshift conference room, two of them are occupied by Oliver Queen and Colleen Joyner. "Hello," I choke out bravely; their presence causing an alarm to blare in my head.

Clark and I tentatively step toward our seats in this informal circle. Colleen Joyner smiles genuinely as she stands and eagerly reaches out for a hug, "Miss Elizabeth," she pats my back, holding onto me longer than usual. "I was so afraid I wouldn't see you this visit." She sniffs.

"Thanks, sweetie." I mean it and as I look into her tearful eyes, I watch her expression turning to relief and motherly pride as she reaches for a hug from my husband. It warms me to know there's another fierce protector out there for him.

My nerves are frazzled, especially after Colleen's extra hug. Does she know something I don't? We all sit, but Clark stays on the front of his chair and leans toward the doctor. "So, this is an unexpected roll call for our usual prognostic meeting…" He glances at everyone with his jaw tight.

"Yes, Mr. Kent," She relieves us of the awkward pause in the room. "I hate to throw a wet blanket on you, knowing you all are happy and eager for birthday; and rightly so." Clark leans into the back of his chair and I swallow hard as he wraps his massive hand around mine. The doctor gestures to Oliver, "Mr. Queen is here because he, well, he's the boss and asked to be kept in the loop for facility, security and _special_ reasons."

Oliver leans over his knees as Clark takes a light breath. Reaching out, he pops the side of Clark's leg in a man-to-man gesture meaning, 'I've got your back.'

"Miss Colleen," Dr. Shrone continues, "is here because as your nurse, she'll soon be called into a deeper responsibility and position." We absorb her introduction and hold our collective breaths for the rest of her speech.

"The most important reason you all are here," she eyes me in particular, "is to get you through this special pregnancy and birth successfully." Dr. Shrone uncrosses her legs and leans her elbows on her knees, drawing closer to us. "In light of the baby's descended position and the information I achieved through the ultrasound, albeit swiftly," she nods to Clark confidently, "I am predicting this pregnancy will not run a usual 9-month course."

"Doctor," Clark clears his throat and sits forward, "What information did you get from the ultrasound?"

Dr. Shrone's eyes shift to him, "The baby's size, mainly. These tests are never conclusive, but I have seen hundreds of these scans and your baby is very mature. And that Elizabeth's circulation was cut off so quickly by the weight of the sack, only points to it even further."

Miss Colleen turns to us with her eyes wide in worry. I do my best to smile at her even though my chest is tightening. Parting my lips, I take a shallow breath and ask, "Do you know when or have a timeframe?" My voice is shakier than I thought, apparently, because everyone in the room turns toward me.

"I could estimate, but I might be way off; births are _always_ unpredictable, even in normal pregnancies." The doctor scrunches her face to lessen the harshness of her words.

Normal; mine is not. I nod and whisper with my eyes closed, "I understand." I can't say more through my tight throat. Clark's hand tightens around mine and I tilt my head toward him in acknowledgement without opening my eyes. It doesn't matter, however, tears are making their way through my lashes anyway.

"Elizabeth," Dr. Shrone tries to get the subject back on track. "I am going to require that you be put on bedrest for the duration, and unless Mr. Kent can keep a constant eye on your condition, I will insist you reside here until birth."

I open my eyes to the collective gasp in the room.

"But she is only 7 months' along, doctor, doesn't that seem premature?" Oliver rolls his eyes, "Sorry for the pun."

Clark lets go of my hands as his fly up swiftly, and he blurts out, "I can do that!"

"Clark?" Oliver and I say his name at the same time. I'm very excited that I get to go back home for awhile.

Doctor Shrone's hands fold in her lap as she eyes my husband warily. "Mr. Kent, you're saying that if I let you take her home, you will be able to keep vigil on her 24x7?"

My heart sinks.

"Yes," he answers her emphatically. "Whatever she needs, I can take care of it for her."

He's being so brave. Memories fill my head of him falling into bed in the middle of the night after flying back from halfway around the world. With Oliver shaking his head sadly, I can see that he agrees with me. Swallowing hard, I take a breath, knowing what I say will imprison me here, away from him, for the duration. "Clark, you can't."

"She's right." At the wince of betrayal on Clark's face, Oliver confirms. "Your _job_ requires you to travel too much."

"Then it's settled." Dr. Shrone sits back in her chair and smacks her hands on her thighs; her face worried and satisfied at the same time. She pauses as we look at each other. "I understand this is a shock, but in the grand scheme of your lives, this will only be a couple of months at the outset and you'll be taking a healthy baby home with you."

Depression fills me swiftly as I watch everyone, including Clark, stand awkwardly. Tugging on my hands, my husband pouts pitifully as I allow him to help me stand, too.

Dr. Shrone pulls the handset to the phone down from the wall and announces to the room, "Give me an hour and Mr. Queen and I will have a room ready for you." She nods at Oliver.

"Doctor, may I speak with you a moment?" Blessedly, Miss Colleen tugs the doctor away from us.

Clark wraps his long arms around me tightly, and pulls me into him, whispering in my ear, "I can stay home with you; you don't have to be here just yet."

"It'll be okay," my throat tightens and I bury my face into his collarbone, trying to hold back an emotional meltdown and surprised how much this is upsetting me. Clark's large hand cups the back of my head and I lose the fight. Desperately trying to regain composure, I choke bravely, "I'm sorry, I'm okay."

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent, if you would sit a minute." Dr. Shrone clears her throat. We do her bidding, wiping our eyes. "Mrs. Joyner has offered an alternative." She gestures to Colleen Joyner's worried smile. "She is volunteering to be home companion to you, Elizabeth, to monitor and help so that you and Clark can try to live more normally a little longer."

I feel like I've been run over by a truck, I'm so overwhelmed. I grin at Colleen and dab tears from my eyes.

"That's too much, Miss Colleen," Clark's voice is deep and sure. "You've sacrificed too much for us already, all of you have." His voice is shaky as he continues, "Besides, you have a family of your own to care for."

"Angel," Mrs. Joyner replies firmly, "There's nothing more I'd like to do than this. My son is away at college and so integrated, he almost never comes home anymore. If you don't mind me in your home, that's where I want to be. I think of you as my family." She pauses like she wants to say more, but closes her lips and leans back into her chair.

I can't look at Clark right now, I know his face is screwed up in that sad-guilty-thankful look; it wouldn't be Clark with any other expression. And I can't or I'll be a puddle all over myself.

"If I may finish, please." Dr. Shrone interrupts. "This is not an either-or choice. Mrs. Joyner is compassionate and highly skilled, but remaining here for care is the safer choice by a long shot. There is distance to contend with and medical equipment that is only available here in an emergency. If I had my way, you would already be admitted, but this is your decision." Dr. Shrone straightens her labcoat, checks her watch and asks respectfully, "Mr. Queen, do you have any input?"

Oliver sits up and eyes us both firmly. "I just want to state that all care will continue to be provided, without regard to cost. Any need at all. And this is no judgment against Miss Colleen's expertise, but I would err on the doctor's side in this case, and recommend Beth be admitted." Clark rubs his neck and Oliver leans toward him more determinedly, "I don't want _anything_ to happen to your family."

Clark studies the faces of each person in here, including mine, then sits up and asks bravely, his voice still gravelly, "So, can I take my wife home, doctor?"

Our doctor nods resignedly, "Since you have chosen that path, let me remind you that bed rest is not to be taken lightly. You will stay reclined at all times, not be on your feet except to walk to the bathroom." She glares at Clark. "Mr. Kent, I expect you to make sure these are followed, even procuring a wheelchair for your wife for the trip home. Am I clear?"

We nod meekly, but brightly.

--


	21. Chapter 21

**Hands Stilled**

"You were awfully quiet at dinner," I tug on her hand in the space between our jumpseats. Beth looks at me without seeing and takes a shallow breath; glancing down at our hands. She doesn't seem eagerly responsive. Lifting her hand, I kiss her knuckles softly and search her eyes. "Sweetheart?"

Adjusting her headset, she glances at the pilots before giving me a weak smile. "I'm fine." She shrugs her shoulders and leans against the chopper's fuselage; her thoughts drifting far away.

Our Queen Industries helicopter shimmies and groans against the high winds tonight and I'm grateful we were able to readjust Beth's seatbelt to fit around her. She leans forward at the jarring and closes her eyes in impatience with the bumpiness. Letting go of her, I slide my hand across her back to show comfort. She doesn't look at me, in fact, her eyelids tighten.

"Are you feeling okay, Mrs. Kent?" I glance over at Colleen Joyner's concerned expression.

Beth opens her eyes and tilts her face to smile warmly at my old nurse. "I'm fine, Miss Colleen. Please call me Beth, okay?"

Looking back, I see Colleen smile her thanks, "I'll try ma'am." Swallowing thoughtfully, she leans back into her seat and reopens her paperback.

Observing my wife, I watch her study her new nurse and then turn away, lifting her other hand to secretly dry a tear.

So, there_ is _something bothering her and she's not willing or able to talk about it with our present company. Letting my hand slide down her arm, I take her empty hand and push my fingers deeply between hers. Still, she won't look at me, but she dabs her eye again and squeezes my hand, keeping her gaze at the stars beyond the chopper's window panel.

--

It seems hours later, but in reality, only a half hour full of activity embarking at the farm, a small tour of our house and introduction to Shelby for Colleen's sake. Beth flatly and annoyingly refused to use her new wheelchair, but at Colleen's insistence and my blocking her path, my wife grudgingly relented for me to carry her up the stairs.

As Colleen removes her fingers from my wife's wrist and twists her stethoscope, I bid her a goodnight. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you, angel." She smiles back at me, glancing sadly at Beth. "Sleep well."

Sealing the bedroom door gently, I turn to Beth who is glaring angrily at the door. She takes in a tense breath through her teeth and growls as her eyes close, "I hate this."

The venom in her voice surprises me; there's nothing to dislike about Miss Colleen. _She's tired_. Kneeling in front of her, I take her hands and look up into her heavy eyes. "Sweetheart, can I get you anything?"

She looks down at me and her eyes fill with tears. "My life, our baby…" she chokes, "normal, Clark. Can you get me nor-?" She tightens her lips to restrain her emotion.

"Oh, Beth." I rise and pull her into my embrace.

"It's not fair," she cries into my neck and sniffs, letting her fingers twist in my t-shirt. "I should be going to birthing classes by myself because it's the same night as your bowling league. We should be like everyone else." She cries her heart out into my neck.

My heart breaks for her; the simple things she always looked forward to but can't have because she married me. An alien. "I'm sorry."

--

His limbs around me stiffen and I swallow back all the things I was going to dump on him carelessly. His apology is more than words to placate my meltdown; I've hurt him deeply. "Clark, no." I nuzzle into his neck. _How do I take that back?_ This is what he's always been of afraid of. And he's right, he's to blame; his heritage.

Tears flow freely and unbidden as I beg for him to hear me. "Baby," I choke out, "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Beth, you're tired."

He strokes my hair, smoothing it to my back, and kisses my temple. Lord, I am tired. I'm exhausted. "Please..." He lays me down onto my pillow; kissing my forehead the whole way, and spreads the cool sheet over me. Suddenly, I can't keep my eyes open and I whimper, "I love y-"

His beautiful lips touch mine, halting my apology and my awareness with his sweet breath. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

--

She's breathing heavily. Lord, she's already asleep. "My sweet Elizabeth." Pulling back from her soft hair and skin, I watch her sleep, noticing more than ever before how dark the circles are under her eyes, how labored her breaths are, all of it belying what it's doing to her, a human carrying a Kryptonian child. _Is there any way I can make her life normal?_

Standing, I walk to the window and open it to see the stars better. Unable to focus on the beauty, my mind remembers all of the trauma she's been through since we met. Since the day I nearly plowed her over with my alien body. The kidnappings, the torture, the worry over me and my secret. _Jor-el, why did you send me here?_

The cool night air blows through the window across my neck, bringing me back to our current reality. Wiping my eyes, I drag myself to bed.

--

Feeling the sunlight tingle through my limbs, I stretch and yawn and roll onto my side. Letting my hands roam blindly to my beloved beside me, I jerk upright when I hear a loud crash.

Seeing my alarm clock shattered on the floor, I look around and wonder aloud, "How did I end up in here?" I fell asleep in my old room? Scanning curiously, I notice my high school awards and medals adorning the dresser and there's a pile of jeans and flannel shirts tossed over my chair. Has Beth been cleaning out our room?

Rising from my empty bed, I throw on some clothes and pause outside my door and call out, "Beth? Are you here?" I hear nothing; even through my enhanced hearing I hear nothing but the normal sounds on this farm, no human heartbeats or breaths. "Miss Colleen?" I bellow, knowing already the house is empty.

There's an odd light being cast into the hall from my parents' old room, and I walk toward it with an uncomfortable twinge in my gut. Pushing the wood door back, I gasp at seeing my parents' furnishings, the same wallpaper and arrangement. No plaid comforter, no lighthouse paintings, no pictures of…

My cellphone rings, causing me to jump out of my skin. "Chloe, what's going on?"

"Well, good morning to you, too, grumpy. Get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Chloe asks cheerfully.

"Wrong bed actually-"

"If you can tear yourself away from work today, Clark," she interrupts, "there's a phantom situation that needs your attention."

"Phantoms?!" _What's happened?_ My mouth goes dry and I choke to speak again. "Chloe, I thought we took care of all of those."

"Duh, Clark," she answers me sarcastically, "but Governor Luthor's archeologists are about two shovelfuls shy of lifting the lid on your phantom garbage can of the deceased."

"What?" My mind races and my eyes search the house looking for whatever color meteor stone transported me here from my precious life. "Chloe there's something horribly wrong…"

"You're not kidding, Clark." There's concern in her voice. "Meet me on the roof, okay?"

I brace myself for some strange answer. "Where?"

"The Daily Planet? Um, Clark, you're beginning to scare me. I'm heading up there right now!"

--

"Chloe!" I bark at her, relieved to see her blond hair.

Her eyes widen and she touches her chest, "Geeze, Clark, I thought we'd ironed out your approach! Gosh!" She breathes erratically.

"Chloe," I grip her shoulders, "I don't understand what's happening!"

She pulls back and rubs her arms, "Relax, I was exaggerating about the 2 shovelfuls, it's more like half a block, okay?"

"Please tell me you were exaggerating about the 'Governor Luthor' bit, too." I beg her.

She frowns and reaches up to touch my forehead with the back of her hand. She shrugs and rolls her eyes, "You're always warm, I don't know why I do that." I clamp my fists and growl on the inside. Her eyes widen and then her brows fold. "Clark, what is going on with you? Of course Lex is governor, for 18 months now."

Running my hand through my hair, I sigh, "Keep an open mind, okay?"

She crosses her arms and smiles, amused, "Don't I always with you?"

"Look," I turn away and scan the buildings around us. "I woke up this morning and everything was different. Everything was wrong."

She steps alongside me, "Different in the 'Jor-el took my powers away' or 'I can't get Shelby to eat his food' sense?"

I turn to her and bellow, "Chloe, I'm married!"

She touches my arm in concern, "Has Alicia contacted you? 'Cause you told me that marriage wasn't legal."

"No," I take a breath to scream but I'm interrupted by my cellphone ringing. Chloe gestures with her eyes for me to answer it. My heart leaps, it might be, "Hello?!"

"Dude, it's Jake." A young guy barks into the phone. "Look, the boss is having a meltdown."

"The boss? Who are-?"

"Kent, you know I can't lift all this by myself. Mercer will have my hide!"

"Jake, hang on," I pull my phone down and look into Chloe's confused expression. "Who's Jake? Who's Mercer?"

"Your job, your boss?" She rolls her eyes, stomps her foot and tries to pry the phone from my hand. "Let me." Relieving the phone to my best friend, I watch in amazement as she handles this stranger so smoothly. "Jake, it's Chloe! Look, I'm sorry I wasn't able to beat him to the phone, but Clark is sick in bed; delirious with a high fever. He can't come into work today, you understand?"

Closing the phone, she hands it back to me. Her voice is more patient when she finally speaks again, "So, you're telling me you woke up this morning in some new dimension?" I let out a deeply held breath and nod. "You don't have a Naaman dreamcatcher hanging over your bed, do you?"

"Chloe, this isn't funny. I've been married for more than a year…" Beth's condition comes flooding back to me and I turn to the rail on the roof edge. "We're expecting a baby…"

She leans her back against the rail. "Now I know there's something wrong, because in _this_ reality, there's no way Lana could be pregnant, she's been dead for 2 years." I just stare at her, unsure what to say. "Sorry, Clark."

"Chloe, I didn't marry Lana." I walk away and run my fingers across my tight scalp. "And she's not dead, either."

"Wait-, she's alive and you married someone else?" Chloe grabs my arm and turns me sharply, studying my eyes sadly. "You're serious." It's a statement, not a question. She finally believes me. Her face perks up to amazement. "So who's the lucky girl to capture Clark Kent's heart?" At my frown, she gests, "Hey, a reality without Governor Luthor is worth retrieving!" She smiles with an ornery twinkle in her eye.

"Beth." I choke on my tight throat. "and she's having trouble carrying…"

"Beth, who?"

"Chloe, it's Beth. Elizabeth Edison." I can't believe she's confused. "She used to work here with you at the Planet…"

She searches the air silently, shock slowly fading from her face. "She still does, Clark. Beth Edison, really? You married… oh God." Her eyes go distant and she bites her lip.

"What is it?" The deepness in my voice surprises us both. I touch her arms, "Chloe?"

She rolls her eyes to clear her head and grips my arms back. "Clark, this reality isn't good for her, either. You need to fix this." Her hand flies to her face in disbelief.

"Talk to me, Chloe."

"Believe me, this will be a shock to hear, but she, uh, got married about five months ago." She steps back and studies the horizon without seeing. "They got married because she was pregnant. She was two months along when they tied the proverbial knot."

"You're telling me she's seven months' pregnant?!" My head reels.

"No…" Chloe puddles up, tears fill her eyes. "Clark, we got a call over the weekend from our resident ambulance chaser. He was investigating the usual domestic disturbances and discovered she was hospitalized. She lost the baby."

My chest bucks; I can't stop the emotion sweeping through my heart. My voice comes out husky when I can finally speak, "Where is she, I need to see her."

"She's at University Hospital about a block away," Chloe walks toward the stairwell door, "Come on, I'll take you."

I'm not waiting for that. Taking off into the brilliant sky, I fly to the hospital and become frustrated immediately because they don't have an Elizabeth Edison or Elizabeth Kent registered. _Of course, she's married and I don't know her name._ Thanking the information attendant, I step back and scan the building while keeping my hearing open. An electric current bolts through me when I hear her weak sigh.

Zipping up the stairwells, I approach her room nervously. Stepping through the door, I gasp at the site of my beloved lying unconscious with an oxygen tube in her nose, her arm in a cast and she's covered with bruises and tubes. "No, Beth."

She takes a shallow and noisy breath and her brow folds in pain.

I take her good hand and pray over her. "Elizabeth?"

Blinking slowly, her eyes open and focus on me, but there's no warmth. "Mr. Kenn-t..." Her eyes slip shut again.

Mr. Kent? "God please," she doesn't know me. I need to get her back. "Help her."

"When did you learn to fly?"

The question is quiet and unsure, and I turn to focus on Chloe's worried face as she steps into the room, panting.

Glancing back at Beth's battered form, I whimper, "She was with me when I learned. It was about a week after our wedding." I squeeze Beth's hand and pray for some recognition. "What happened to her?"

"Clark," Chloe steps next to me, tucking her hand under my arm, and leans against my shoulder. "She called off sick from work 2 weeks ago. She never came back." She takes a breath to reign in her emotion. "I should've seen it; she came to work with a new bruise each week and withdrew more."

"What are you saying?"

"Her husband beat her, this time nearly to death."

Through my tears, I study Beth's form more closely and find bruises and cuts to her back, a swollen infection on her thigh bone and three cracked ribs. "He kicked her; what a coward."

"She probably wouldn't have survived except a neighbor went to check on her after _Clubber Lang_ left for work, and found her collapsed and bleeding." Chloe dabs a tear from her cheek.

My heart tenses in anger. "How could a man hit so hard that he kills his own baby?"

"He never believed the baby was his. It's no excuse, but Beth told me once that he was convinced she was cheating on him and had forced him into this marriage."

"How could he hurt _her_?" I swallow roughly, "How could she marry such a monster?"

"People make bad choices all the time. You know that firsthand, Clark."

Pulling Beth's knuckles to my lips, I pinch my eyes to release tears. "Please tell me he's in jail and will pay…"

Her brows fold as she watches me. "He's out on bail, but he's definitely in trouble."

Setting Beth's hand down gently, I back up and growl. "Where do they live?"

She grabs my arms, her eyes wide in alarm, "Clark, no. As much as I'd like to see the beatnik get a super Clark whomp and taste a little of his own medicine, you can't. You need to make your world right." She gestures tensely to her friend's form, "You need to make her right-" Her lips quiver and tears roll down face.

"How Chloe?" I bellow and when Beth jerks, I stroke her arm softly. Deliberately lowering my voice, I growl through my teeth. "It's not like I spun the earth backwards to get here. I don't know how to fix this!" Kneeling at her bed, I take Beth's hand and let my tears fall.

"What about Jor-El?" Chloe slides her hand across my shoulders. "Maybe, you need to ask for his help…" My eyes close at her touch.

"Clark, baby."

Beth? Opening my eyes, I gasp at seeing complete darkness around me. I can't see anything but I can feel weight on my chest and warm breath against my neck. _What's…?_

Soft lips brush against my jaw. "Baby, I'd never want normal without you." Her sleepy vow cuts through the darkness and my confusion.

I was dreaming. I'm in bed with my wife, Elizabeth!

Panting, I tighten my arms around her body and stroke her skin, listening to her breaths deepen immediately. Allowing her words to soothe me, I let my head sink into the pillow, determined to stay awake the rest of the night.

--


	22. Chapter 22

**Hands Dependent**

Something hurts.

Opening my eyes, I realize I'm in bed. With the whiteness and lack of sunbeams in my room, I know it's late morning and Clark is surely up and out working the farm. Leaning to my right to see the clock, I'm rewarded with pain. "Ow," I moan.

I have to move, my arm is pinned under me. With the weight of the baby anchoring me to the bed, I struggle to roll forward, panting and groaning, and trying to pull my lifeless arm out with the other.

"Beth?!" Clark yells from the stairs; he's panicked.

"I'm okay, I'm just," I whisper absently, trying to fall onto my back, but I still can't maneuver…

"Sweetheart?" Clark speeds to my bedside, his brows are tight and his eyes wide in worry. "What's wrong?"

"I, Clark, my-"

"Miss Beth?" Colleen Joyner falls into the room, her hair blown back and she's panting from having run up the stairs. She grabs her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff from the dresser and moves toward my other side.

The pain is getting worse. "I'm fine, I just, my arm is caught." I look up to Clark helplessly, remembering our joke from a crazy date years before. "Help me, Obi Wan?"

His brows smooth immediately in understanding, "It's asleep." He states flatly with a light grin on his pretty lips. Slipping his large hand under my shoulder, he rolls me onto my back. I gasp at the motion and bite my lip.

"Are you okay?" Colleen reaches for my good arm.

"It's beyond asleep, I think it's in a coma," I whimper.

Straightening my deadened arm to my side, he slides his hand down my skin gently, "Is that better?"

Knowing pins and needles will soon streak through my skin, I eye his hands and choke on air, "Are you trying to kill me?"

He pulls back from me like I burned him, biting back a smile. "Sorry."

"Angel," Miss Colleen moves to Clark's side, she sounds worried. "If you would let me get her blood pressure…"

I puff out uncomfortably, my arm starting to wake painfully, "Great, now she's trying to kill me." Miss Colleen pulls back, too. "Sorry, guys, I don't want anyone touching that arm until it's back to normal." I lift my head and cross my leg over the other toward them. "Could someone help me sit up, please?"

Colleen pushes down on my shoulder firmly, "I'd rather wait until I got your pressure, hon." Her deep brown eyes apologize to me.

Knowing I've scared her, I relent, "Okay." Letting my head fall back to the pillow, I suck in air and wait helplessly as my arm continues to throb. A tingle starts seeping through my forehead and scalp, "H'oh, I nee to get off my ba, plss." I raise my good arm to my face and fight to stay alert as blackness creeps into my vision. They both stare at me, frozen. "Now!" I try to yell out, but it comes out only as a breathy whisper.

"Miss Colleen!" Clark nudges her and she moves back. Slipping his capable hands under me, he lifts me off the bed entirely and settles me on my seat in the chair by our dresser. The tingling in my head dissipates immediately and I find myself panting slightly for air. "Sweetheart?" Squatting in front of me, he watches me too closely, and I swallow my breaths and rub my awakening arm while I wait for him to quit listening to my heart.

His green eyes and dark hair are shining and I can't keep a smile from my lips. "Thanks, Skywalker, thanks for _un-beaching_ the whale."

His smile breaks open and he sighs in relief. "You're okay?" He states more than he asks. He's so beautiful when he smiles like that, my insides ache.

"I'm hungry." I rub the swell around our child for effect.

"Miss Colleen," Clark rises happily from his knee and gestures to my nurse. "Please do your thing so I can take my wife down to breakfast." My chest tightens at his excitement.

"Yes, sir," she giggles, picking up her medical tools. Kneeling beside me, she takes my pulse first.

Looking up to the love of my life, I ask an important question, "What's for breakfast?"

He tilts his head eagerly, "What would you like?"

Colleen places her cold sensor on my chest and I smile up at him, "Banana pancakes?"

"Shh," Miss Colleen reprimands. She smiles gently as she closes her eyes to concentrate on what she's hearing.

I pinch my lips together in regret and Clark does the same, both of us smiling through our eyes at each other. Colleen shifts to pick up the BP cuff and Clark puts his finger up, "I'll be back in a minute to fetch you, okay?"

"Great!" My stomach growls and his eyes pop open in surprise. Colleen looks up to tell Clark something, but he's gone. She turns back to me in surprise. "He'll be right back."

She nods but her brows stay folded like she's puzzled about something. Brushing my hair away from my face, she smiles and leans on the arm of my chair. "How are you feeling?" I open my mouth to answer and she adds, "Besides hungry?"

"I feel good." I pause, "Shouldn't I?"

"No, if you feel good, that's good." She stands and folds her equipment. "There may be times when all the stats are normal, but my angel is still not feeling well, so I will continue to ask. Okay?" I nod and swallow back tightness in my throat. "Would you like your slippers on?"

I nod and she moves to the side of my bed. It's the first time we've been alone together, so with Clark still not back, I take my opportunity, "Miss Colleen," I ask quietly, "I know you didn't hurt Clark when he was taken by the Luthors, but," My throat does go tight and she swallows hard as she works my slippers onto my feet. "Did you see what they did to him?"

Colleen glances to the door and her hand goes to her neck. When she looks at me again, there's a sheen to her eyes, "No, Beth," her voice is deep, "they wouldn't allow me in his room until their _tests_ were complete."

I sniff, "Did you know they were…?" I swallow and roll my eyes, unable to complete that sentence.

She seems relieved not to hear it. "No, hon, not at first. It is very common to hear screams even in real mental hospitals." I flinch and stifle a cry unsuccessfully. Kneeling beside me, she touches my arm. "I'm sorry, I should have put that a different way." She dabs a tear from my cheek and her brown eyes lock into mine, "Hasn't he been able to talk about it?"

I focus on her worried eyes and nod bravely, proud of his revelations. "Yeah, I was just curious how, well, how you saw what was happening."

She nods and strokes my skin, "Have _you_ been able to talk about it?"

I gasp. Flashes of green light, pain and mocking voices accost me and I choke a little, "I was drugged for most of…" I swallow harshly and drop my face.

"World-famous banana pancakes are ready!" Clark stands proudly in the doorway. Seeing me dab my eyes furiously, he crumples a little. "Everything okay?"

I nod and Colleen steps back, "Wow, that was fast, angel." I smile at her, grateful for her expert skill in deflection.

Raising my hands to him, I smile and he stammers as he lifts me easily from the chair. "The um, the batter was already started…"

"I can't wait!" I state enthusiastically, eager to do a little deflecting of my own. Looking over my shoulder, I reach out, "Miss Colleen, are you coming?"

"No, thank you," Colleen tugs the corner of the sheet from the mattress. "I ate with Clark a couple of hours ago."

I frown at what she's doing and Clark takes a quick breath, "Miss Colleen, you don't need to worry about the bedding, I can do that later." His arms are tense beneath me.

"Nonsense," she flicks her wrist at us, "That's what I'm here for; to take care of you two." She stands and rolls the sheets over her arms. "Go on, go eat. I'll get this cleaned up and ready before Beth needs to rest again." She raises her eyebrows, daring us to argue.

Feeling awkward, I wrap my arms around Clark's neck and nuzzle against his skin; marveling as always at the scent of him. Clark pauses and finally relaxes his hold on me, "Okay, Miss Colleen, you win, _this time_." I can hear his smile before he walks me sideways through our bedroom door. Reluctantly, I pull my face from him as he moves down the stairs. He lowers his voice for me, "Don't you think calling me Skywalker in front of her was risky?"

Tightening my arms around his neck, I answer confidently, "No, he's a hero, too, Clark." I whisper the rest in his ear, "And he's just as human as you are."

"Beth," I can hear his reprimand. He bends over to lower me, but he doesn't let my feet down. When my bottom hits a seat in the middle of the entry hall, I look down in confusion.

"Clark, no, not the wheelchair." I whine as he places my feet onto the rests. "I don't need this, I'm fine."

Unable to control his smile, he moves behind me and pushes me into the kitchen, up to the table. "Oliver paid good money for this, for _you_." My hair blows and I watch him set a mug of coffee in front of me, "It's decaf, babe."

"Hmm," I wonder aloud, "So, after the baby comes, I can push you around in it, right?" He smiles irresistibly and I quip, "Clark on wheels, I like the sound of that." He shakes his head as he places a plate full of pancakes and a bowl of hot syrup in front of me. "You've outdone yourself, these look amazing!" I pick up my fork and start cutting eagerly.

Clark sits at the corner of the table, sipping his coffee. It doesn't take long before his smile fades swiftly and he takes a deep breath as he watches me eat.

I try to tease him, "I know, right? I'm going to be the size of our _barn_ eating this much food and not getting out of this chair for any exercise." He smiles without it reaching his eyes. "Clark, what's wrong? You're not worrying about me again, are you?"

His brows come up, "That's a given." He smiles weakly.

I feel full all of a sudden, so I put my fork down and sip my coffee. "Talk to me; what's going on?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again and shrugs awkwardly. I can wait. Finally, he looks out the window and utters, "I had a dream." He pauses, pinching his lips together, his jaw hardening.

"Clark," I touch his arm, feeling the muscles tighten inside. "My imagination can dream up way too many things. Please, tell me about it."

His face turns to me and he twists in his chair, pulling his arm back. Letting his other hand stroke mine, he sighs, "I dreamt that I woke up and you were," his eyes lock with mine and his next words are braver. "You were gone." He swallows hard.

Knowing he's edited for my sake, I ask, "I died?"

"No!" he blurts and rubs my hand. His shoulders fall at the relief, "It was more like, well, we'd never had a history together, and you barely knew me. You married someone else…" He continues, but my thoughts are stilled. I need to clear the air, again, just in case he didn't hear me last night.

"Baby," I interrupt him and he seems eager for the interruption. I take his hand in both of mine and I fight the tightness in my throat, "I didn't mean what I said last night. I was overwhelmed and-"

"Sweetheart," he interrupts me, his hand touching my shoulder. He wheels my chair out and kneels in front of me. "I just want to make you happy; whatever that takes. If that means you getting a break from this circus of a life, or just getting a good nap, I want to provide what you need. You are the most important person in my life, you understand?"

Fear grips me at the thought of being sent away from him. Looking into his eyes, my heart finally understands, he's being brave again. Unable to speak without blubbering, I pull on his hands until he wraps his arms around me. Pushing my fingers into his hair and my lips into his neck, I breathe in his warmth and tell him what I _need_. "I'm glad to hear that losing me made for a disturbing dream, because if I ever lost you, I could never recover. No amount of sunlight could heal me." He pulls back with tear-filled eyes, and I add playfully, "You've spoiled _normal_ for me, Clark Kent!"

--

They're kissing. Great. _How do I get out of this now, sneak back up the stairs?_ Clark pulls away from his wife and glances up at me. _I'm caught_. He dabs his eyes and smiles, "Miss Colleen, ready for more coffee?"

"Sure, thank you." As I reach the landing, I notice Beth's head is bent forward and she's furiously wiping tears from her face. _What's going on?_

As I come closer, Clark steps deeper into the kitchen and pulls out the coffee pot. I realize she is seated away from the table and I'm thrilled, "Beth, you're using the wheelchair! I'm so proud." I touch her arm and she shrugs.

"She's being very good," Clark turns and winks at her as he hands me a fresh, hot mug. "She's following doctor's orders."

"_Today_." Beth rolls her wet eyes playfully and I'm instantly aware that the brightness has gone from them. She needs rest.

"Speaking of orders," I take a deep breath, "we need to get you back to bed."

She whines sweetly. "I just got up, Miss Colleen."

"You shouldn't be sitting up at all, and it's been," I check my watch, "twenty minutes."

She sighs, "Fine, recline." She looks up to her husband for support, "Clark, would you put me on the sofa so I can still visit?"

_That's not a good idea._

Clark wipes his hands on a towel and smiles easily at her, "Sure, I can…" he looks at me and I shake my head. "…take you upstairs. Sorry, sweetheart." Beth slumps in defeat, but as Clark lifts her from the metal chair, she rests her head immediately against his chest. She doesn't even wrap her arms around his neck like she did earlier. "This way," he coos gently, "if you do fall asleep, I won't accidentally disturb you." At the base of the staircase, he glances at me and I can see his jaw is set and his brows are folded; betraying his fear. I watch as he cradles her near-lifeless form all the way up, murmuring, for her benefit, his plans for the day.

I grip my coffee mug tighter and look out the window, wondering if his plans will get interrupted; if we'll be taking his precious bride to the hospital today.

--


	23. Chapter 23

**Devoted…Hands**

_Grabbing my hands, my groom in white smiled down at me eagerly, his beauty causing my stomach to flip over. "Are you ready to escape?" His voice was quiet but intense, full of desire and meaning._

_Deliberately swallowing back my quickened heart rate, I glanced around the room to our last few and faithful guests; family. Taking a shallow breath, my thoughts and words tripped over themselves and through my lips, "Did you say goodbye to Ollie?"_

_His fingers twitched and stroked mine in his hands as he sighed patiently, "Yes, and your parents and my mom, too." He licked his lips as his happy darkened eyes studied me. "Have you?"_

_I nodded absently and forced my eyes away from his intensity. Concentrating on something, anything but him, I heard the last song play from our chosen list of favorites. My heart sank. /i_It's over. Our wedding is over_.i_

_The light shining on my face from the dance floor darkened suddenly and I felt Clark's warm breath on my ear, my neck, his fingers delicately tugging my hair back. He whispered, "It's just the beginning."_

_His sensual touches and tenderness stirred my desire, and goose bumps rose on my skin. Surprised at his words, I pulled back and looked at his smiling face in front of me, a joy shining in his eyes. "Yes," I choked. /i_It's just beginning_.i_

_I watched his eyes drop to my lips and felt his fingers lift up on my chin. His eyes closed, his long dark lashes begging to be touched, and he moved in and set his warm lips on mine. I could barely feel them, but I drank in his warm breath like an aphrodisiac. At once, his desire became my own, my insides lit up and a heat swirled wildly through my veins like the twinkling lights from the DJ's disco ball. _

"_Gag! You lovebirds need to go before we all puke!"_

_Breaking our kiss reluctantly, Clark frowned up at Chloe's cousin. "Thanks, Lois." He turned his body and cleared his throat, speaking a little louder. "Thank you all for a magical evening. Mrs. Kent and I" he squeezed my hand and grinned, "are leaving and we want to thank you for all you've done." His hand pulled me forward and I realized he wanted me to say something._

_Clearing my own throat, I looked out at the small gathering, "We love you."_

_Glancing down at me, his eyes dark with anticipation, Clark wrapped his arm around my silken waist and pulled me forward. Our onlookers clapped and began rising from their places, looking for their possessions. My eyes fell on my mother and then Clark's mother and suddenly I needed one more goodbye. _

"_Clark," my feet halted, "I need to speak to your mom for a second, okay?"_

_His brows folded faintly in question, but his smile opened up genuinely. "Sure. Anything for my beautiful new bride."_

_With that, he bent forward and kissed me one more time, releasing me to walk away._

_Martha was talking to my father and Chloe as I approached shakily and she turned in my direction, her rich red hair tumbling over her shoulder. "Mrs. Kent, can- may I speak with you a moment?" _

_Her velvet smile widened sweetly at me and she glanced down at my wringing hands as she stepped away from the others. "What is it, Beth? You look absolutely terrified. Are you okay?" _

_I tried to still my fingers, but all I could do was run my hands down my hips and hope their shaking would not show. She took my hands in hers and I sighed heavily. "Maybe-, I'm not sure I should be speaking with you about this, but I'm not comfortable…"_

_I left that hanging in the air and her watery blue eyes studied my face a little closer, trying to figure out my problem. "What's wrong, sugar?"_

_I tilted my head toward her son, who was blushing uncomfortably at something Bart and Oliver said, yet his smile held. She looked at him and then looked back at the fear in my eyes. "How do we, you know, consummate…" My sigh came out so heavily, I wasn't sure how I was still standing._

_Martha cleared her throat and her skin pinked up, "Oh, well, Clark and I never talked about this, but, um, I'm pretty sure his girlfriends-," her eyes widened, checking on my response. "Well, no one got physically hurt that I know of…"_

_My face turned red with hers. "That's not, I'm sorry." I looked up to the ceiling for the words, "I don't know what to," I choked on air, "I've never done this b- before." _

_Martha's face melted instantly into sweet understanding and as she rubbed my fingers in hers, she leaned closer. "Sweetheart, it is completely natural; it will happen all by itself." I rolled my eyes in frustration at her. Her eyes squinted as she paused, stroking my wrists. "Look at him, hon." She stepped sideways to give me access. He laughed heartily at something, his beautiful smile lighting up the room, and then turned and stole a glance at me, smiling tenderly when he saw me looking. "There, did you see it?" She moved in front of me again. "Do you think Clark would be anything less than gentle? He wouldn't hurt you for the world and that includes this." She pointed at my heart for emphasis._

_Stealing another glance at my husband, I exhaled and smiled. "You're right. Thanks, Mrs. Kent." She lifted her brows at me. "Mom." She smiled, a twinkle of joy in her eyes. "I'm sorry for embarrassing-."_

"_Go." With her eyes wide in motherly authority, she leaned back and pulled my hands forward. "Enjoy this with all your heart."_

_Hugging her tightly, I walked across that room toward my husband of only hours, the shakiest passage I ever made. He stood there, still, with his hand held out for me to take; his eyes glowing against his golden skin and framed by his thick lashes and brows. And I leaned against him heavily. _

_His left hand tugged at my waist as we waltzed out, "Are you okay?"_

_We stepped out onto the portico and breathed in the sweet scent of the rose garden lit beautifully with delicate white lights. Smiling up at him, I gushed, "Couldn't be better."_

"_Are you ready?" We looked up to see Chloe smiling, leaning against her car, the door to her back seat already open. We climbed in, Clark working to not destroy my flowing gown in the tight space. A mile an a half later, Chloe stopped the car and we all worked to get out again._

_Standing under a streetlight, Chloe kneeled behind me and unhooked my satiny skirt and train. As a last touch, she wrapped a rosy red sash around my waist and tied it loosely in the back, letting the lengths dangle down to the hem. As she swished away, Clark's eyes slid up and down what was left of my dress, a silk chemise that caressed my curves and danced deliciously around my knees in the light breeze. "You're beautiful." He moaned deeply. His fingers closed on my waist and I shuddered despite the hot night air. _

"_Okay, have a good trip, you guys." Chloe's voice broke our spell and we turned to see her grinning mischievously with my skirt settled over her arm. Winking, she turned and got in her car and left._

_Clark turned back to me and hefted me up to his chest tightly, letting his fingers smooth over my skirt. "I don't think I can wait to get there." He frowned in desire, his eyes lit up._

_Smacking his chest playfully, I tsked him, "Clark Kent, you could fly us there faster than if we needed to walk across the street."_

_His face erupted into a toothy grin. "Let's go then."_

_The night was warm and humid, perfect for our flight to South Carolina. Clark had already flown to our bed and breakfast to pre-deliver our luggage and get the room key, so I was relaxed in his capable arms. Just about the moment I realized we were in the air longer than I expected, I saw the ocean. It was dark and so vast, scary in the moonlight. "Clark," I choked out, feeling confused and slightly less than secure with just his arms around me. "Where are we going?" _

_His arms tightened around me and his lips pressed onto the top of my head. "We're crossing to the other side."_

_Burying my face in his neck and collar, I tried to steady my racing heart. "Why?" I swallowed._

_He leaned his head against my wind-filled hair, "Do you trust me?"_

_Turning my head into his neck, I kissed his skin, letting my tongue have a slight taste. "More than anyone on this planet, Buzz Lightyear," I teased._

_He chuckled; it was an amazing sound as the wind gobbled it up. "We're here." He stated eagerly, and added with a twinkle in his eye as we alighted onto a balcony, "And not too soon, I might say."_

_Setting me on my feet, he watched me closely as I turned to look over the balcony. Dark images took shape as I realized tree branches were swaying in a tropical breeze. "Where are we?" I asked dreamily._

"_St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands," he glowed in pride, "And you'll see out there one of the 10 most beautiful beaches on the planet." He looked down at my eyes and I saw his pupils widen, "And this secluded townhouse is completely private."_

_My belly dropped at the look of possessiveness in his eyes and his tight jaw and I reached up to slide his tuxedo jacket off, letting my fingers stroke his muscle-bound arms as it fell. "I don't even want to know what happened to Myrtle Beach…"_

_He tried to smile, but his mouth was tense with desire and I gasped when his finger lifted up on my chin. Boring into my eyes, he breathed against my lips, "Where were we?"_

_He bent sideways and set his pouting lips on mine, pressing gently. I shivered and when he pulled back, I mumbled against his lips, his chin, his delicious skin, "I think we were past that."_

"_Oh yeah?" I took a fast breath and clung to his waist for balance. His fingers slid across my neck like liquid silk and he stepped closer, gasping in his own oxygen when his chest touched mine. My neck was stretched upward to its limit, inhibiting my ability to breathe, but with his hand cupping my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, I didn't care, I craved more. His mouth opened over mine and I lost every thought and fell completely into nothing but senses, stimulated senses. _

_Sensing my shakiness, his other hand closed around my waist and I could feel my own limbs stretch lightly as he pinched my skin softly, his warmth seeping through my silk dress._

"Miss Beth, are you okay?"

I open my eyes to an empty bed, my arms wrapped tightly around Clark's pillow and Colleen Joyner approaching my bed warily, her brows bent in worry.

"Hi'm fine." To my surprise, I'm out of breath. iNo wonder she looks worried./i

Miss Colleen's stethoscope clicks behind me and I lean back for her, staying on my hip. "Have you seen Clark this morning?" With the whiteness in the room, I can tell it's late.

She places the cold sensor against my skin and pauses, smiling at me. Pulling back, she takes her equipment off and reaches for my wrist. "We had coffee together early this morning," she pauses again, counting my pulse, "but I've not seen him in the last couple of hours."

With my left arm being picked up and a blood pressure cuff slid on, I turn back to put his pillow down and let the back of my hand slide across the soft sheet and mattress.

"Is she okay?" Clark breezes into the room, his jaw tight. When he sees me looking at him, he smiles absently.

"He-ey, handsome," I try for sensual, but come off as choking instead.

Walking in front of my side of the bed, he takes my free hand and kisses my knuckles and looks up at her like he didn't hear my flirting. "Miss Colleen?"

My nurse tugs the cuff off my arm and puts it down. She winds up the stethoscope and shoves it into her bag and I wonder if she heard Clark at all. Finally, she looks up and smiles weakly, "Her pressure is up a bit, angel, but probably not enough to warrant a transfer to the hospital."

He swallows hard. "Do you plan to call Dr. Shrone about her condition?"

Colleen nods and lugs her bag to her waist. They frown toward each other, doing their best to communicate silently.

That's not fair. If they asked me, I could tell them why my blood pressure is up. "Um," I clear my throat, "You two realize I'm right here, don't you?"

--

She's right, we're ignoring her like she's a child. Forcing a smile for her, I caress her fingers in mine when suddenly they go rigid and she whines, "Ooh, ouch!"

My heart leaps. "What is it?"

Colleen Joyner grabs her other hand and strokes her shoulder. "Angel, are you in pain?"

Beth's brows come together, but she smiles through it, "Geesh, you guys, I just need someone to help me to the bathroom." Focusing her joyful eyes on me, she giggles carefully, "Your son just kneed me in the bladder."

--


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: Just a reminder that I wrote this following the end of Season 6 of Smallville. Lana faked her own death to get away from her marriage to Lex Luthor...

…**of Truth**

With Colleen Joyner keeping vigil on my frustrated bed-ridden wife, I walk out to the barn and kneel down beside our tractor. It's ancient now as far as farm equipment goes and I have to nearly rebuild it every year to get it working again. Turning the grimy bolt on the belt clip, I smile, remembering how I used to sit on my Dad's lap as we drove it together. He took me out every spring to the 'back forty', as he called it, to remind me of my history and future.

But today, Colleen's words are heavy on my mind.

"_Angel, I'm worried." The grip on her coffee mug looked painful._

_Setting my mug down on the counter, I squared my shoulders and gave her my undivided attention. And I tried to quiet my heart. "About Beth?" My voice came out shakier than I liked._

_She sighed tightly and placed her cup on the table, but her hands continued to wring around the porcelain severely. "She's weak." She looked up at me and her dark brown eyes narrowed. "I don't know how she's going to carry this baby much longer, let alone give birth." Releasing her cup, she ran her hand across her forehead. "I'm afraid his infection might harm her irreparably." _

_I was glad she paused because that sentence was so loaded, I didn't know which point to worry over more, that Beth is too weak, that she might not come through this wholly, or that my baby is a boy and has some sort of infection? Against my will, tears were stinging the back of my eyes and I fought to swallow. "Infection? The baby has an infection? The doctor didn't say anything…" I couldn't speak more with my throat closing._

"_Angel?" She looked up at me, truly puzzled. Her brows were folded, her eyes wide and her lips frowning. She stood from the table and moved closer. Leaning against the counter, she cleared her throat, "The meteor infection, the same blood disorder you suffer from…" I just stared at her, dumbfounded. "The reason the Luthors were experimenting on you, angel," she grabbed my arms in frustration, "that condition has clearly manifested itself in your offspring, your child." Tears filled her worried eyes._

_I slammed my eyes shut and dipped my head. She backed off. Dr. Shrone must be guessing the same, as well. I didn't know whether to clear up their misconceptions or not. Letting them believe what they did wouldn't harm Beth or the baby; it wouldn't change anything. But I trusted Colleen. Could I let her go on believing a lie?_

_I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Colleen was standing in front of the sink, looking out the window, her heartbeat still racing._

Shelby wags his tail and squirms next to me, reminding me to listen to my surroundings. One set of light footsteps approaches and then a warm hand touches my back.

"Is she asleep?" I ask Miss Colleen without turning from my work.

"Clark."

I know that voice and instantly a chill runs down my spine. "Lana." I stand swiftly, concentrating on the sounds outside as I turn, listening for multiple vehicles or armed men. It's quiet.

She backs up slightly at my angered response and studies my eyes softly. "It's me."

I bark harshly, "What on earth are you doing on my farm?!"

Her fingers touch her curled brow, but her eyes remain bright and hopeful. "I knew you'd be…" She swallows and grins sadly, "but I guess it's been too long."

Shelby whines and I can see his tail wagging out of the corner of my eye. "It's not been long enough, _forever_ wouldn't be long enough!" I toss my wrench angrily onto the wooden floor and she flinches. Deepening my voice, I warn her through clenched teeth, "How could you come back here after the months of suffering you put Beth and me through?"

"Clark," she glances at the dog and tilts her head at me. "Who's Beth?"

"Don't play games with me, Lana!" I scan her purse and find nothing lead-lined or full of green liquid. Impatient with this and her appearance, I march past her, heading to the driveway. Seeing her car, I stretch my arm out toward it, pointing it out, and look back at her disgusted.

She moves forward, her arms swinging purposefully, her brow and lips wrinkled in confusion and shock. She stops and looks up at me. "I knew dying in an explosion over 2 years ago would be difficult for you to come to terms with. I guess I was naïve to think you'd forgive me." She turns and walks to her car, sniffling.

"I don't know what response you were expecting from me with this game, but this act of dejection is more than I can take!" I bellow at her.

She turns back to me and dabs her red, misty eyes, as she chokes out, "I am not playing any games, Clark!" She purses her lips and opens her car door. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fooled everyone into thinking I died, and because you finally trusted me enough to share your secret, I hated most doing that to you." She swallows, "But I had to leave Lex and dying was the only way I could keep your secret and get out of our twisted marriage."

My chest fills with rage. "What are you talking about? You didn't leave Lex, you told him my secret and then together you nearly destroyed my wife and then my life in the process. You're not fooling me, so quit fooling yourself."

"I never…" Her eyes widen. I can hear her internal gasp. "You married?" She swallows hard and her breaths nearly choke her. "You met someone and married…" She looks down at her hands and mumbles, "of course…it's been over 2 years."

"Are you on something?" For the first time, I'm starting to wonder about her sanity. She looks up at me with so much disappointment, so much emotion, so much like the Lana I used to know. My voice isn't as strong as I continue, "I don't know anything about you dying. And you're acting like you didn't just kidnap Beth and torture our unborn child."

"Torture your unborn child?" She slams her door and stomps toward me with fire in her desolate eyes. "I didn't know you were married, let alone expecting. How could you accuse me of such an evil thing? I thought you knew me better than anyone else!"

--

Taking Beth's temperature and checking her blood pressure, I pull her sheet up over her shoulder and watch her dark-circled eyes slip closed. As frustrated as she's been having to stay in her bed and look at the same four walls, she falls asleep so quickly. Carrying this baby is exhausting her more every day. I find I can't quit worrying.

As I listen to her breaths grow deep and regular, I hear voices outside the window Clark opened earlier for fresh air. Although I can't hear the words, I can tell the voices are angry. Out of curiosity, I walk to the window and look out.

Clark is standing in the middle of the driveway facing someone I can't see, blocked by a vehicle. His reddened skin and clenched fists are a clear sign he's furious at the other person.

Slipping out their bedroom, I head to the kitchen. Beth has an impressive collection of teas, but I'm partial to coffee. In fact, between Clark and me, there always seems to be a fresh pot on. Grabbing my mug from the drainer, I step to the coffeemaker for a fresh cup. As I pour the stimulating brew, the outside voices escalate again. The visitor sounds almost familiar. Unable to contain my curiosity, I take my mug out onto the wrap-around porch.

Clark is hugging a young woman with eerily familiar long black hair. He's obviously over his rage, because he smiles half-heartedly as he releases her. "Does Lex know you're here?"

The girl pulls her hair out of her face, "I don't know."

"Mrs. Luthor!" Out of shock, I lose my grip on my mug and it falls and smashes onto the sidewalk below me. I can't take my eyes from Lana Luthor as my chest heaves for air. Lana turns to me and seems to not recognize me as her smile is still intact while her brows curl up.

"Miss Colleen!" Clark's hands are up to me. "It's okay."

She speaks softly, "I don't go by that name anymore, I'm sor-"

I interrupt her. "It's _okay_?!" I can feel my own death grip on the railing, the wood under my fingernails. Unwilling to tear my eyes from this intruder, I gape at Clark Kent like he's lost his mind. "What is she doing here and why haven't you escorted her off…"

"Miss Colleen, please." His hands gesture for my volume to lower and only because Beth is sleeping do I comply. I clamp my lips and fold my arms tightly at him. "This is the original Lana Lang, trust me. The woman you worked for was," his eyes roll, looking for the perfect word.

"A clone." Lana finishes for him. "I'm sorry ma'am, if I frightened you," she steps toward me and I step back. "But I've never met you before."

"Humph!" I bark and she turns to Clark helplessly. She looks and talks like the woman I know; I wonder if Clark has an inner blindness when it comes to this girl.

Clark takes a deep breath as he patiently tries to calm me, "I know this seems impossible, but I will explain it in a few minutes, if you would wait, Miss Colleen."

I can't believe he's asking me to swallow any explanation as to why he would welcome this woman with open arms. But I've had nothing less than the utmost respect for him since we met, so I take a shallow breath and nod tightly.

He drops his hands and reaches for Lana's shoulder and begins turning her toward the car, "You're not safe here, Lana." She looks up at him, frightened and her eyes are open wide to him like she's begging for protection. "I'm sorry, we're already on the Luthor radar…"

Lana looks terrified now and I want to make sure she doesn't win him over with those puppy dog eyes. "Their lives are already in danger," I turn to my angel, "And Beth would…"

I'm interrupted by a scream and my heart sinks into my stomach as I watch Clark's eyes widen and cut up to his bedroom window.

"Beth!" He looks up at me, panicked, and then suddenly he's gone.

"What just..?" A breeze blows my hair back and I'm standing alone looking at the 'original Lana Lang'. "Where did he..?"

She shrugs innocently, a soft smile in her expression, "Trust me, he's got her." She glances up at the window and puts her hand up as she turns to her car. "I'm leaving." For once, I can respect that. She opens her door and pauses, "Miss Colleen? Please tell Clark 'thank you' for me and give him this." She hands over a ripped piece of paper with a phone number scribbled across the wrinkles. "It's to a prepaid cell I have, so the call can't be traced." She smiles warmly and I can feel the sway she has over people. This Lana is much sweeter.

I need to make sure Beth is okay, but even as I grab the screen door, I feel a protective instinct to pause and wait for the sound of her visiting vehicle to roll down the long gravel driveway. I'm halfway to their bedroom when I hear my name on a sickening cry, "Miss Colleen, help me, please!"

Hauling up the stairs, tears burn the backs of my eyes at the words I heard the first time I met this angel.

--

Hurrying into the Kent's master bedroom, I stop just inside the door at the devastating look on Clark's face. There's a soul-wrenching combination of fear, concern and guilt in his expression as he holds Beth's lifeless form effortlessly to his chest, right in front of the window.

"Angel?" I grab my medical bag and dig in it for my stethoscope, stepping closer to this tragic couple.

"She fainted, Miss Colleen." There's brokenness in his voice.

"She saw Mrs. Luthor, didn't she?" I pop the ear pieces in place.

"I think so." He looks up at me finally and backs up a step. "Her heart is fine, and so is the baby's."

Ignoring words of a man in his state, I continue and place the lead on Beth's chest. Unfortunately, due to her twisted body, I can't get a good read. "Clark, honey, I need you to lay her down."

He shakes his head 'no' and gathers her tighter while his eyes remain glazed over in fear.

I don't have time for this; I need to make sure she doesn't need immediate medical assistance. "Clark Kent," I stroke his arm, "put her on the bed."

He snaps out of his trance and settles his wife on top the mussed quilt, supporting her fragile neck like she's a wilted flower. Stroking her cheek, he stands upright and scoots back, mumbling, "Her heart is fine."

"Thank you, angel." Fussing to get my stethoscope in place, I wonder if he'll dismiss me for treating him like a child. Her heart is fine and so is the baby's. He was right and as I look at him curiously, he opens his phone.

"Chloe," He steps to the window. "Hi, yeah. I need you to call a meeting for tonight, please." "There's been a new development that may cause this case to explode." He nods. "Lana is back."

Everything about Beth seems normal, so I reach up and palpate her head for swelling or bleeding.

"I'll explain it at the meeting," he pauses. "Miss Colleen, what are you doing?"

"Feeling for injuries, angel." When his face doesn't change, I explain, "You said she fainted, which means she fell."

He shakes his head absently, "No, I caught her." He pulls the phone back to his mouth, "Chloe would you look up an article for me, too?"

I watch him as he paces, as he finishes his conversation, listing in my mind the unusual abilities I've witnessed about him in the last five minutes.

"Yeah, with Beth on bedrest, I'll need the meeting to be here." He sighs. "I don't care if Oliver whines about security." "Thanks, bye."

He closes his phone and looks up at me expectantly as I stand up straight and rub my back. "She's fine, you were right."

Clark approaches me and touches my shoulder, his neck tight as he swallows, "Thank you, Miss Colleen," he looks down at his prone wife and takes a deep breath. "If you'll excuse me…" Without waiting for a reply, he kicks off his work boots and crawls onto the bed next to his wife. Her head lolls at the movement and I finally break out of my trance and back toward the bedroom door.

He slides along her form spoon-like, propping Beth onto her side with his hips, and throws his arms around her as he drops his head onto the pillow. I pull the door closed as he snuggles into her hair, closing his eyes. Standing against the doorframe, I blink out the tears forming in my eyes and whisper a prayer for these two angels.

--


	25. Chapter 25

**Uncerntain...**

Snuggling into my pillow, I sigh heavily and shiver. The day brought so much new information and a new person into our lives. According to them, anyway. I'm still not sure what to believe. Seeing Lana Lang or Lana Luthor in _my_ house was almost more than I could bear, even after we established she was not the same woman who tortured Clark and me, both. Everyone was so convinced, even Chloe, who is usually the skeptical one. Not me, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her nor look at her, either.

"_Here is the article you asked for, Clark." Chloe handed a paper to Clark and shrugged innocently into the rocking chair as if to say we shouldn't kill the messenger._

"_Thanks, Chloe." He scanned it with his usual speed-reading and relaxed. Handing the paper to Oliver, he walked to the table. "So, how are we going to present this information to the FBI?"_

_Oliver read and his brows folded in concern. _

"_What does it say, Ollie?" I was frustrated that not enough was spoken._

"_Here," He handed three sheets of paper to me and sat down beside me. Looking out at the group, he interjected. "I'm not sure we can tell them about clones, Clark."_

_Each paper was a copy of a newspaper story and even though the paper was full-size, the articles were reduced to fit and consequently very small. The first headline read, 'New Luthor Bride Target of Corporate Espionage?' Too frustrated to try and read the small print, I looked at page two. The headline read, 'Is Lana Lost?' The final paper looked like it might be another newspaper article, complete with a picture of Lana hugging young school children, but it was written entirely in Japanese._

"_Well, we need to find a way. Lex can't get away with this again." Chloe leaned back into the chair and crossed her arms indignantly._

_Dropping the sheets of paper to my lap, I sighed in frustration. "Wait, what do these mean?" Everyone else understood, "I mean, how are these supposed to help?"_

_Clark turned to me with his brows folded in confusion and Oliver took the papers from me gently, speaking patiently. "Basically, Beth, Lana is claiming to have blown up her Luthor clone and the first article proves that there was a bombing. Lex is quoted in the second one saying she was only hurt and is spending time with her aunt in France to recover."_

"_And?"_

"_Well, the date on it is the same as the date on the Japanese article that states and pictures Lana involved in a local charity."_

_I frowned some more and Chloe sat forward, "Even if Lana wasn't killed, she can't be in two countries at the same time. It proves the Luthor Corp Cover-up Machine was in full swing."_

_Lana pulled her head out of her hands and stood, breaking her silence, "The only thing I can figure is that Lex had more than one clone or had my memory downloaded into a new one, which is why he still found out about Clark's secret." Clark turned toward the window and she stroked his arm, "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He glanced at her hand and she pulled it back and shoved it awkwardly into her jeans pocket._

_Chloe stood energetically, "I've seen articles on Luthor Corp's cloning involvement. This can't be too complicated. We can present these articles to the Feds, and since there's no footage of Clark, his secret will remain sealed."_

_Clark tugged his fingers tensely through his hair and sighed heavily. Everyone in the room dropped their chins and I realized for the first time that we all knew Clark was taking blame once again. "What about Beth's footage?" He choked out, bringing tightness to my throat._

_Oliver stood and paced, "We can 'lose' that footage, but it really doesn't reveal your secret either. And, it will go a long way in helping prove that the Luthors have pushed the envelope too far." _

_Chloe whined, "You mean they've spit on, burned and hacked up that ethical envelope."_

_I knew they were talking, but I wasn't hearing. With the mention of my footage, memories of the torture flooded through me. I jumped when someone touched my hand and realized I'd been holding my breath. Clark was squatting in front of me with concern and sadness crumpling his steely composure. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"_

_Swallowing, I was finally able to answer in a squeak, "I'm tired, can you take me upstairs?"_

_Clark nodded his consent, smiling pitifully, and as he lifted me from the sofa and walked me up the stairs, I could hear Lana ask, "God, what did they do to them?"_

_Chloe whispered in response, but I couldn't hear. _I don't ever want to hear_. _

--

"Miss Colleen," I gesture to the kitchen table, "I need to speak with you."

"Oh, okay," my friend and nurse pulls a chair out as I retrieve her mug and fill it with fresh coffee. "What's on your mind, angel?" I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. I can't blame her, I'm uncertain about this myself.

Filling my mug, too, I take them both to the table and sit in a chair on the end. "It's decaf." She nods understanding, but averts her eyes to the mug in front of her. Pulling my mug into my hands, I lean into the back of my wooden chair and zero my vision and hearing in to Beth's sleeping form upstairs. Once again, she's exhausted. "A wild day, wasn't it?" I choke out.

Absently, Miss Colleen nods again and she twitches a little. She takes a quick breath and holds her hands up to me. "Mr. Kent, if this is about my scolding you earlier, I'm sorry, I-"

"Mr. Kent?" I search her eyes, she looks worried. "Miss Colleen, this has nothing to do with, wait, what do you mean scolding?"

She swallows hard and her eyes widen for a second, "Well, first it was Lana, only it wasn't Lana and I couldn't believe you hugged-," she looks to the dark window. "And then when Beth fainted, I needed you to-," Her breaths blow out, lifting her hair from her forehead and she deflates. "Yeah, it was a wild day."

Laying my hand on her forearm, I wait for her to stop and look at me. "Please, _please_ don't worry about any of it. I didn't feel like you were mothering me and if you were, I probably deserved it. This isn't about anything you've done or said, well-" I roll my eyes to the ceiling and close them.

A warm hand closes over mine and I look up to a calm and curious Colleen. "What is it?" Her warm brown eyes are quietly searching my face. "What did I say?"

I lean back into my chair again and she pulls her hand back to her fresh mug of coffee. "It's not what you said, as much as the subject. I need," I take a quick breath and lean on my elbows over the table top, "I need to clear up something. I do not carry the meteor infection." She watches me, not much change in her face. "Neither does my unborn child."

I've left enough silence, and she screws up the courage to respond. "Angel, I've seen what you can do, I saw the kind of people the Luthors collected, and they _were_ meteor infected." Her dark eyes settle on me as if she's waiting for further information to process.

Why is this always so hard? "I, uh, am not from this Earth; I'm not human." There, I've laid it out. Will she believe me? But there's nothing coming from her, no gasp, no tsk, and when I look at her, I don't see denial on her face; she's not shaking her head, nor has she backed up from me. I offer more, "The reason the Luthors took me is because I am affected _by_ the meteors. They are poison to me, radioactive elements from my home world, Krypton."

Her chair squeaks against the hardwood floor and I look up expectantly. But she's just turned the chair to face me more squarely; there's not a hint of fear or disgust on her face. "So, you really are an angel." She rubs her forehead in a way that describes human feelings of overwhelmed proportions.

I raise my whole face to hers; I can't believe her response. Her eyes scrutinize me, studying every feature of me and I cringe on the inside, just knowing she'll either argue or point out something that truly is different. Taking a sip of my coffee, I look up again. She's dabbing tears from her eyes. "Miss Colleen?"

"And your baby is, not human, too, I guess." She sits forward with her eyes wide in worry, "And Beth is carrying him." Standing from the table, she walks toward the picture window and her hand comes up to rub the tension in her shoulder.

I stand and move toward her. I could never forgive myself if she fainted and hurt herself. "Colleen." I'm dying to know what she's thinking and afraid all at the same time.

She glances down at her fingers, which are flitting like she's counting. "Angel," she turns to me and nearly grabs my arms. "What if the baby uses that strength inside her, during the birth… and your speed could literally rip through the delicate tissues…"

"Miss Colleen," I put my hands on her arms. She pauses with her mouth open in alarm, "He, or she, won't have my abilities at birth." Lord, the thought of a little girl with my abilities, that brings me up short for a moment. "The weight of the baby might be an issue…"

"And the divergence of mixed blood, particularly if there is any hemorrhaging…" She swallows.

I tug my hands through my hair tightly, I hadn't considered that. "I'll have to make sure to get her into the sun." My heart skips a beat at the gravity of Beth's situation. I hadn't thought all of this through. Her getting pregnant so swiftly and easily lulled us into believing this could be possible. What if it's not?

"The sun?" Colleen touches my shoulder.

"The sun heals me." The words fly from my mouth without me thinking, I can't think, my stomach is churning.

"The sun healed Beth, didn't it?" She clears her throat. "After she was shot, you took her away from the hospital. It was months later when I heard she was coming in for prenatal visits."

"Because of the baby, because the baby has my blood." My chest tightens and I look up at my old nurse with my heart in my throat, "Colleen, what if there really is a problem with the blood differences?" She looks up at me with concern and love shining from her eyes. "And once the baby is born, the healing properties will no longer help her, Lord, please," I step past her, "what have we done?"

--

He's falling apart right in front of me. "Clark, angel," I reach out for him. His fists clamp tightly and he turns his face to the top of the stairs.

Glancing back at me for a second, he utters through his tight jaw, "Goodnight, Colleen."

"Goodnight, ang-.." My hair blows back and he's gone. Other than him bidding a goodnight, I don't even know where he just went. There's no physical evidence to show his direction or that he was even here a second ago. I shake my head as I move back to the kitchen. "He may not be human, heavenly Father, but You are Lord, God of all the universe, and You care for this young man as much as every other human."

Placing my empty mug in the sink, I reach up and rub the back of my neck. As much as I want to consider his origins and what he can do, I can't; my heart is hurting. Images from my memories are flying through my mind, all the expressions I've seen of Beth, her joy, her weary smiles, her tears and then to Clark and the encyclopedia of emotions flitting across his face over the time I've known him, all in a new light of his secret. In desperation, I fall to my knees on the Kent's carpet and sniff back the tears that are tightening my throat. "Guard them, Father. Please give the doctors wisdom and my hands the motions needed. Please let it be Your will… …this man needs his family."

--


	26. Chapter 26

**Gripped…**

_The wind is blowing through my bedroom and I scream as the window shatters, a soaked tree branch slamming heavily onto the carpet. My heart leaps!_

_Scrambling to sit up awkwardly, I realize I'm in pain. Deep waves of it are coursing through me, making my stomach tighten like a drum._

"_Clark!" I scream for him to help me; I don't know if I can make it all the way to the storm cellar on my own. My hair whips across my face and mouth as I slide my feet out to the floor. "Somebody help me, please!" I choke out weakly as another pain rolls through me._

_Lightning flashes and thunder crashes around me and I jump when a bloody hand grips my arm slickly. "Elizabeth!"_

"_Miss Colleen!" Tears fill my eyes, blinding me further. "You're hurt."_

_She wraps her good arm around my waist and tugs me forward. "Why are you still in the house? The tornado is seconds away!" _

_Tornado?! I rise to my feet, "I can't-" Another pain overwhelms me and I fold over my knees, crying out and slamming my eyes shut at the stars crossing my vision._

"_Are you in labor?" Her hand opens over my swollen belly, leaving a trail of clotty blood on my white top._

_The sound of twisting lumber mixes with the wind. "I don't-" The bedroom door slams shut and we both jerk in surprise._

_My nurse pulls me toward the door just as a deep rumbling sound eerily fills the room; a sound like a train engine bearing down the tracks behind us. "We need to hurry!" _

_Letting go of me, Miss Colleen moves toward the door. With my heart in my throat, I turn back to see near blackness against the place where the window was, unable to see the sky, trees or even a peek at the barn roofs. "Go Elizabeth!" She screams at me, "I'll hold the door!"_

_It's all I can do to stay on my feet with the wind whipping at me. As I cross the threshold, I turn around, "Okay, come on!" I yell at Miss Colleen, knowing she's there even though I can't see her._

_The walls of my room start to shake, and between the locks of my hair whipping across my face, I see the window wall crumble and fall away into the screaming wind and rain. The door flies toward me and just before it slams, I see blood smeared along the edge and knob. "No!"_

_I am in complete darkness except for light along the edges of the door rattling against the frame. "Miss Colleen! Please!" I push against the door, feeling the sticky moisture from Colleen's wound under my hand, but I can't get it to budge. I bang on the wood, "Miss Coll- aagh!" My swollen belly tightens and I fold over into the throbbing pain, throwing myself off balance. Reaching out for the wall or door to steady myself, I find nothing. Groping in the darkness, I realize I can't hear the tornado anymore; the space is still and silent except for my thumping heart and whimpers._

_Finally, my hand finds something steady; it feels like a bed and as another wave of pain accosts me, I fall against it and hang on for dear life. My own cries fill the quiet space and as I pant heavily, the room brightens slowly to a white fog._

_I can see something bright red in the near distance and as the fog clears, I can make out dark hair and a red jacket. "Clark!" He's facing away from me and bent forward concentrating on something. "Baby, please help me, Miss Colleen…" I can see feminine hands stroking his neck and hair. "Clark, the tornado!"_

_Clark turns around at last and smiles at me, his eyelids half-hung in desire. "Oh, Beth, I'm so glad to see you!" His voice is smooth and he's obviously turned on as he reaches out to stroke my hand._

"_What are you doing? -urgh." Another pain rips through me and I can feel Clark's massive hands guide my throbbing body all the way onto the bed. "Clark, it hurts so much," I cry into the leather cushion against my face._

_He lifts up on my hands, settling me onto my back. "I know, baby, I'm sorry." _

_His voice doesn't sound sincere, so I look up into his face. His eyes are dark against the room's brightness and flashing cruelly. "What's wrong with you, Clark?"_

"_Oh, there's nothing wrong with HIM." A new but familiar voice rings through the room, filling it with dirtiness. A woman with long dark hair smiles at me through the fog, "He's perfect."_

_Tension fills me and I pull desperately at Clark's hands, "She's, Clark, …help!" I whimper through another contraction tearing at me, my breaths beginning to wheeze._

_Clark pouts, his brows coming together, and he holds my hands through the pain. As my contraction passes, he smiles greedily, showing his teeth. "Beth, you remember Lana, don't you?" His velvety voice is scaring me and I try to pull from his grip, to get away, but his alien hands tighten over mine. Tears fills my eyes as he turns his grin up to HER, "I think she remembers you, baby."_

_Lana slides her hand along my shin and nods. Looking up at me, she smiles too sweetly, "Hi Beth, I'm going to help you with the pain."_

_My chest seizes, "No," I choke out and try to jerk my leg away from her touch, but her hand tightens around my ankle. "Clark, stop her, please!"_

_Laughing evilly, she lifts up a large needle filled with bright green liquid, and taps it dramatically against something I hadn't seen before now, leather stirrups dangling above my feet._

"_Nooooo!"_

--

"Nooo!" She screams, jerking in my arms, her lungs shrieking for air.

"Beth, honey," I tighten my hold around her jolting frame to stop her, to soothe her.

She thrashes inside my arms and a keening cry escapes her, hoarsely, "Clark!" With her desperately pushing my arms away, I release her and she scrambles awkwardly to sit up.

"I'm right here," I coo and sit up behind her, laying my hand on her shoulder.

Her head wrenches toward my hand and turning her body, she looks at me in the darkness of our room, her eyes wide in fear. Her chest hiccups on a whimper and she slams her eyes shut, panting wildly.

"Sweetheart, you had a nightmare, I think." I stroke her shoulder softly.

Her hands go up and she rubs her face, pushing her hair off her forehead as she continues to choke for air, "I-, I'm so glad it was a dream.." She opens her eyes to study me again, tears rolling down her stricken face. "I _know_ you- you could never do that."

"Do what, baby?" I pull her into my embrace, tucking her face into my neck, afraid of what she dreamt me doing.

Her warm breaths continue to bathe my neck, "You and Lana, ohh," she moans, her body going rigid against me, her breaths holding.

Watching her grab her swollen stomach, I begin to panic. "Beth, what's wrong? What are you feeling?" When she doesn't answer immediately, I x-ray her abdomen, seeing nothing different than usual.

Finally, a breath breaks away from her throat and her body goes soft again. She returns to gasping for air, "I don't know, everything hurt there for a minute." She pulls up from my neck and searches my face frantically, her eyes wide in fear, "Clark, what if something's wrong… would you check the baby?! Please." She slips her hand back to give me an unblocked view.

"I already did, everything looks the same." Opening my hand, I glide my palm across her stomach and shake my head in uncertainty. "I should probably go get Colleen."

"No, it's gone now." She snuggles into my neck again. "Would you hold me?"

With her heart calming a bit, I joke, "You have to ask?" I can hear her smile against my skin as I lay back down again, pulling her with me.

She sighs, relaxing into me, her hand lovingly smoothing my t-shirt. "That dream was so scary…"

"I could tell." Stroking her hair, I turn my face and kiss her forehead. "Do you want to talk about-?"

"Ungh," she moans, her fingers curling up, twisting my shirt, and she pants shallowly. "It's ba-"

Scrambling to get up from under her, I promise, "That's it, I'm going to…" She won't let go of my shirt and as I get up onto my knees, I turn my face to the door and yell fiercely, "Miss Colleen!"

Beth's legs are sliding tensely across the sheet under me and suddenly relax again. She and I both jerk and cover our eyes as the ceiling light blares on. "What's wrong?" Miss Colleen steps into the room dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sleep pants. She rubs her eyes as she tugs her stethoscope out of her bag.

"She's in pain-"

"It's gone," Beth interrupts, pulling her blocking arm down from her squinting eyes.

Colleen stops at the foot of the bed, her stethoscope in mid-application. "What kind of pain was it, where did you feel it?"

Beth finally releases my shirt and I stand quickly; I have to move. "In her-"

"Around the baby," Beth smiles apologetically at me for interrupting. My heart slows back to just a nervous rate at her gesture.

"Was it dull and enveloping or sharp and stabbing?" Colleen asks as she plants her tool against Beth's pregnant body.

"Dull, but strong." As Colleen lets go, my wife pulls herself onto her elbow.

"Was this the first time?"

"Second!" I interject eagerly, hoping to speed up this diagnosis. Beth looks at me and it's my turn to smile for forgiveness. She reaches for me with one hand and I grab on to help her sit up, when she grimaces and collapses. "Again?"

--

The worry on Clark's face is so powerful; I want to tell him no, but the rock-hard grip this pain has on me keeps me from being able to speak. I nod as I pant shallowly, my legs coming up in tension.

Miss Colleen's dark brown eyes are wide. "How long has it been since the last one?"

My heart flutters as I figure out what Colleen is getting at. Clark looks down at his watch and blurts, "3 minutes, 35 seconds." Focusing on my nurse and me, his brows go up in confusion, "What?"

Turning my eyes to Colleen, I give her silent permission to tell him as my hand absently strokes my swollenness.

"She's in labor, angel."

As my contraction eases, I take deeper breaths and watch Clark's expression shift swiftly to relief, then sincere gladness and back to nervousness. His hands are shaking out as he begins pacing. "What do we do now?"

I smile peacefully at his awkward giddiness, "We go to the hospital."

He jumps to attention, "Oh, right," and opens the closet, accidentally ripping the door off the hinges. Colleen and I gasp with our eyes wide and he sets the door against the wall, petting it lightly in apology as he grins sheepishly at us.

"Hold on," Miss Colleen puts both hands up as her eyes search the floor blankly. "Three minutes is tight. Unless her contractions slow down, I don't think we'll be able to transport her," She focuses on me sweetly, "You, I don't think we'll be able to get you there safely."

--

"I need to call Dr. Shrone." Hearing panic in my own voice, I take a quick breath before continuing. "Mr. Queen will need to get her here for the delivery."

Clark grabs the cordless phone; his hands are shaky as he holds it up to me. "Here."

Taking the phone from his hand, I smile my reassurance that everything will be okay. He nods his appreciation without the tension leaving his face and turns to his wife. While I dial the phone, I watch as he kneels beside her bed and strokes her hair, whispering his love and devotion. Doctor Shrone answers the phone and I have to turn away from this sweet scene to concentrate.

"It's Colleen Joyner, Dr. Shrone." I clear my throat, "Elizabeth Kent is in labor." "Yes, ma'am, her stats are normal, repetitions are 3 minutes apart and she is responsive." "Yes ma'am. No, as far as we know contractions started that close together." "I have not yet." Without thinking, I pace as I talk and I watch Clark's face pop up and his brows fold as Dr. Shrone considers the situation. "I understand, that is a problem."

"I can have her there in 30 seconds." Clark's fretful voice disrupts my conversation and thoughts.

Trying to ignore the fear talking, I nod and cover my ear. "Very well, I will get them ready, ma'am." Closing the phone, I focus on Clark and Beth as she tenses and whines through another contraction. "Mr. Queen will have a chopper here in 25 minutes, and Dr. Shrone will be at the hospital in 5." My hands are wringing without my permission.

"No." With his jaw tight and his voice deep, there's no question Clark Kent is struggling. "It'll be another 20 to get to the hospital from here." He looks down as Beth starts breathing deeper again and raises his eyebrows. With her nod, he stands up and glances at me as he heads back to the closet. "No," he grunts as he takes a blanket and wraps it around his wife's frame.

He lifts her from the bed and I put my hands up. "Angel, please, what are you doing?"

He pauses in front of me and tugs the blanket up to her ear, "Miss Colleen, take the chopper Oliver is sending; we'll see you there!" He smiles lightly and suddenly the two of them disappear.

They've vanished. "Clark?" Walking through the empty room, I step out into the hall and look down the stairs. "Beth! Where did you… go?" I sigh, shaking my head, "And where are you now?"

--


	27. Chapter 27

…**Full**

With the swift disappearance of my angels, I go about grabbing clothing and searching for the special things Beth wanted with her at the hospital with jittery nervous hands. Wondering about Clark's alien abilities, I scan the big man chair, the sofa, the quilt rack for his childhood quilt. At the sound of helicopter blades throbbing in the atmosphere, I abandon my search.

Grabbing the tote I filled, I scramble to the back door in time to open the screen for my boss. "Mr. Queen, I have to get my bag and I'll…"

"Mrs. Joyner," he raises his large hands at me and leans against the open door, "There's been a change in plans."

--

Sitting in the chair at the foot of my wife's bed, I watch her sleep peacefully even though the monitor is showing painful contractions peaking over and over.

Fighting sleep myself, I lean over my knees. Running my hands tightly through my hair, I cringe again on the inside. _Beth didn't want any drugs, but they assured her it just blocked feeling; it wouldn't affect her or the baby. She gripped my hand and whimpered pitifully as they pushed a needle and then a tube into her spinal cord, taping it down to her skin._

I shudder at the picture in my mind and I stand to pace and try not to think about the barbaric practice; focusing on Beth's deep sleepy breaths instead.

"Angel!" I turn to see Miss Colleen standing, leaning against the doorway with her light brown hair blown back and her eyes wide.

Grateful for the distraction from my thoughts, I move toward her and hug her, relieved she is finally here. "I'm sorry I left you there, Miss Colleen."

Her arms don't lose their desperate grip right away, so I hold her for a moment. Backing away, she takes a breath and I realize that she'd been holding it. "Thank you," she whispers without looking up at me and dabs a tear from her eyes. Turning to focus on Beth, who's sleeping fairly peacefully except for an occasional grimace in pain, she asks, "How is she?"

I sigh heavily and gesture tightly to my wife, "They stuck a tube in her spine," I whine, still unsure it was safe.

She looks up at me, unfazed, and nods agreeably, like I didn't say a word. "That's great; epidurals make labor and delivery so much easier for the mother and the staff, both." My mouth falls open at her general ease, but she cuts the air with her hand excitedly. "Clark," she glances at Beth and smiles at me as she encourages me to move away from the bed. "Angel, it's over!"

"What's over?" I need more information that that.

"The Luthors, angel," she swallows back tears, "they can't hurt you ever again." She smiles through her quivering lips, dabbing the corners of her eyes.

"What? But the FBI is still investigating. How-?"

"Just now, at the farm. Just minutes after you and Beth disappeared," her brow furrows as her eyes study my face and she smiles wryly. "The Luthors came hoping to find Beth in labor, but Mr. Queen arrived with Lana, the real one…"

"Wait a minute," My heart is pounding at the thought Miss Colleen was put in danger somehow. "You set a trap for the Luthors?"

She pauses to read my face and then pulls her chin back and smiles gently. "They tried to trap _you_ two, and succeeded once. Mr. Queen took a chance, and it worked!" She pumps her arm.

I open my mouth to ask again when Oliver breezes into the room; his eyes are wide, too, in excitement. "Clark!" Eying Colleen, he reaches up to shake my hand. "Did she tell you?"

I take his hand and he wraps his arm around my shoulders in a hug. His enthusiasm unnerves me a bit, but I can't help catch the excitement in their expressions and voices. "Ollie, what happened?"

Oliver glances at Colleen, who shrugs playfully. "Well," His eyes stop at my wife's bed and he pauses. Moving his feet toward her, Colleen steps back to give him some space. His eyes mist a bit and his hand comes up the back of his neck out of tension before turning to me, "Is Beth okay?"

My chest tightens at Oliver's obvious concern and love for my Beth. My own eyes mist and I glance at her for a second to get my fill of her sleeping beauty before answering with a coated throat, "Yeah, she's finally getting some rest."

Oliver nods and our silence ups the awkwardness in this small room. Colleen puts her hands up, "I'm going to catch up with Dr. Shrone, angel. I'll come back shortly."

I focus on her smiling coffee-brown eyes and nod again, "Thanks, Miss Colleen." At her absence, I tug on Oliver's arm and walk him to the far side of Beth's room. "Ollie, please tell me Miss Colleen wasn't in any danger."

He tilts his head and grimaces, "Well," he squares his shoulders, "if it had been up to me, she would have been hidden, but Lana told me they would need to see three heat signatures or else they wouldn't attack."

I'm confused and I sigh heavily. "Oliver, start from the beginning, please."

He checks his watch. "The Luthors were monitoring your phone." I pull my head back at that, I should've known. "So, when Miss Colleen called Dr. Shrone from your house phone, they were tipped off that Beth was starting labor." He glances at Beth again to make sure she isn't listening. "Lana had come to me after our meeting at the farm and told me she wanted to help take the Luthors down, so when you phoned me to tell me you were flying Beth to the hospital, we took a chance." He takes a breath, "There was no time to take Colleen out of there and set the trap, so she played her role as nurse to "Beth"," he puts his fingers up as quotation marks.

I glare at him, still confused. "Nurse to Beth?"

"With wigs," he continues patiently, "I pretended to be you, pacing uncomfortably around Lana as Beth in your bed." I thought about that, do I pace? "And Lana made a good point about…"

"Yeah, I get it, the three heat signatures. Then what, they just walked in to my home?" Please tell me it isn't so.

Oliver watches me very carefully and proceeds with caution, "Basically, man, they did. We were up in your bedroom waiting and they waltzed right in, waving guns. Dear old Lex nearly had a stroke," Oliver smiles, his eyes distant. "It was beautiful, the looks on their faces when I turned around, holding my gun and Lana rolled over, aiming her gun at her own Clone."

I gasp at the picture in my mind. With tension creeping up my neck, I rub it absently. "Sounds like a standoff."

"It would've been," Oliver grins, "except the Clone wasn't threatened by our guns. She blazed right up to Lana and stopped dead in her tracks. She screamed at her own image and then turned her gun on Lex." Oliver rolls on his heels, "Lex just held his own and tried to convince all of us why we needed to turn you and Beth's baby over to his scientists. The Luthor Clone got mad because Lex didn't regard her discomfort one bit and she searched the room. When her eyes fell on Mrs. Joyner, that's when bullets started flying."

"Bullets? At Miss Colleen?"

"No, Clark, Mrs. Joyner was on her knees on the floor and when the Clone focused her rage at her, Lana pulled the trigger and filled the Clone full of lead, as the comic books would say." His smile is as wide as I've ever seen it.

"Lana killed her clone?" That image just didn't compute in my head.

"Yeah, it _was_ freaky, I was there." Oliver widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows for effect. "So, when Lex was surrounded, he raised his hands in surrender and tried to back his way out of the bedroom. Unfortunately for him, the FBI team was coming up the stairs and took him away." Raising his thumbs, Oliver grins, "And the best part, Clark, was that we recorded the whole thing, which will convict Luthor for a lifetime of jail. And he didn't say alien or implicate you in any way being different. He just came off as obsessed."

Feeling confident and at ease, Oliver turns back to watching Beth sleep and I follow suit. But I have to ask, "Where's Lana? Did she come here with you?"

Oliver regards me quietly, his dark eyes frowning. "Nah, Clark, she doesn't fit in here any longer. She asked me to tell you she's praying for your wife and child and she was going to go back to her life of righting wrongs, whatever that meant. She'd be available for the trial when that comes."

"Where did she go? She won't be able to survive out there on the streets."

"Clark, she's been on the streets. And I watched her tonight; she can take care of herself. Besides," he gestures, "once Lex is convicted, she'll be the heir of his estate, business and everything else he won't be able to run from prison. You don't need to worry about her."

The images of Lana instantly vacate my mind when I hear Beth moan. Stepping forward, I watch her face wrinkle up in discomfort and try to figure out what has changed.

"Beth?" Oliver speaks and I'm taken aback at his brashness; I wanted her to rest as long as possible.

She opens her eyes and smiles at him through her obvious pain, "Ollie," she whispers.

Oliver moves to her side and reaches for her hand. My heart leaps as I watch him expertly avoid the IV tubing and needle in the back of her hand, stroking her skin. "Sweetheart, you look good."

She smiles again and my insides calm until her back and neck arch in pain and she chokes over her words, "You tease."

Oliver looks at me with worry in his eyes, before squeezing Beth's hand a little, "I just wanted to tell you that you don't need to worry ever again about the Luthors coming after you, Clark or your baby. You are safe from them, you hear?"

Me? He's right, of course, she would worry about me, probably more than herself.

A tear escapes her eye as she forces a smile. "Thanks," her voice breaks into a loud moan and she slams her eyes shut, plants her feet on the mattress and growls in pain.

Oliver pulls back and barks, "Clark!"

I'm about to superspeed out of her room when blessedly Dr. Shrone and Miss Colleen enter swiftly. "We saw the monitors, Mr. Kent," the doctor holds her hand out to me. "Let's see what's going on." Oliver steps back out of her way and Miss Colleen touches my arm. When I look up at her, I realize she's asking me to step back, too. Reluctantly, I do her bidding and she moves in to take Beth's pulse as the doctor listens to her heart and the baby's.

Oliver and I stand sentry at the foot of her bed and amazingly, Beth calms and begins panting out of relief from the pain. Her voice is tired when she asks, "Doctor?"

--


	28. Chapter 28

**Working…**

The worry on these angels' faces is powerful; the room is full of tension. Our good doctor pulls her stethoscope back and studies the monitors for a moment before addressing the room confidently. "Honestly, there is nothing wrong here other than Elizabeth's epidural is no longer working."

Breaths expel loudly around the room. Beth's tearful eyes blink rapidly and she takes a quick breath to ask the doctor, "But you said it would keep me painfree until after the baby was born." The thinness in her voice belies the pain she's been in for awhile now.

I shrug my shoulders as Dr. Shrone tilts her head apologetically. "Apparently, the _special_ nature of this pregnancy is rendering the epidural ineffective, I'm sorry. I know this is disheartening." She strokes Beth's shoulder and gestures to me, "Mrs. Joyner will explain as your labor progresses. Mrs. Joyner…" she tips her head to me and leaves the room.

As I take a breath to speak, Mr. Queen's voice fills the room loudly, "Okay, guys! On that note, I'm going to meet with my Fed and fill him in on the rest of the details." He tips his head to Clark and Beth and steps back.

"Chicken." Beth teases him and Oliver Queen, Esquire, smiles shyly at her then vanishes from the doorway as Clark sits at Beth's side and holds her hand.

Beth tightens her hold on his fingers and she takes a readying breath, dropping her head back in frustration and pain. When her eyes close and her face squishes up on a pitiful cry, her husband jumps up.

Seeing the panic on his face, I take a breath to refocus them both. Stroking her shoulder, I watch the monitor and speak firmly, "Breathe, Beth, it's peaking, breathe… h'okay, shhh, it's coming down now." As her contraction releases its grip on her, she pants and Clark dabs a tear from her cheek. "Beth, listen to me." When she opens her eyes to me, I continue, "With the next contraction, I need you to do something for me."

Beth's brows furrow and Clark squeezes her hand and answers me eagerly, for her, "Whatever you need her to do, I can help."

When she lets go of his hand and rubs her eyes vigorously without acknowledging him, I know she's beyond tired and frustrated. Her eyes open halfway to me and she asks out of politeness and respect, because her heart isn't in it, "What do you need me to do?"

Tilting my head toward Clark, I hold her gaze steady, "On the next contraction, I want you to look at Clark's ear."

Both heads pop up in shock, "What?"

Loving the rapt attention, I struggle to hold my serious composure; this is serious, after all. "Just look at it, study it, picture it painted red, whatever you do, don't look away until you feel the contraction release."

"O-ka-ay," Beth's really not sure.

"Miss Colleen," Clark's expression is all a-jumble. I can make out embarrassment, curiosity and dismissal. "Is this your idea of.."

Beth reaches for his hand hurriedly, each finger interlocking awkwardly as she prepares to hold on. She glances at me nervously, "No, no," I reprimand. "Not me, Clark's ear. Go ahead."

I can see Clark's aggravation shift to concern as he locks his eyes on her. "Breathe, baby," he coaches.

Beth's contraction passes seemingly easier without whimpers and tears of pain and she leans heavily into the hospital bed. Clark's green eyes look up at me and with a grateful smile, he mouths the word 'thanks'.

Turning away from the excruciating intensity in his warm eyes, I focus on our patient as she pants weakly with her eyes closed. Before even a moment passes, it seems to me her brows fold together and her hand tightens around his fingers again. Trying to school my worried face, I touch her tense shoulder, "Okay, Beth, I want you to concentrate on something else this time – his nose or lips, pick a feature."

Her amused half-hearted grin does little to ease my worry. Glancing up to her IV line and drip, I wonder if Doctor Shrone doesn't have the Pitocin concentration too high; these contractions are nearly on top of each other. Silently excusing myself from the room, I go in search of the good doctor, fearing Elizabeth Kent will be too worn out when the time to deliver arrives.

--

Miss Colleen returns several contractions and minutes later with the doctor following swiftly behind. My chest tightens even though our loyal nurse and friend lovingly pinches Beth's pulse point.

Beth's eyes open heavily at the touch. Miss Colleen coos, "Hey angel, how are you feeling?"

I swallow hard at hearing the endearing nickname Colleen originally used for _me_ back when I struggled to live.

"I've learned some- something." Beth pants heavily, grinning lightly.

She's exhausted. Isn't there something I can do to save her this pain and work? I'm supposed to be the strong one in this family.

Colleen pulls her head back in surprise at my wife's unusual response and locks her gaze with Beth's blue eyes expectantly, "What's that angel?"

"That," she takes a quick breath, "that everything about Clark is per- perfect." Her smile breaks open and Beth turns to study my reaction with a twinkle in her eye. I can't help the heat rising up my neck.

"Oh," Colleen giggles and replies, "Yes, if this baby resembles either one of you, the beauty will be unimaginable."

Beth gasps and tears form in her eyes at the same time as my chest swells, and I furiously struggle to keep my eyes dry.

Another contraction racks my wife's tiring body and as she faces me, I notice Dr. Shrone waving Colleen over to her. I almost forgot the doctor was in here. As Beth's fingers tighten around mine, I coo, "You're doing great, sweetheart." I restrain myself from listening to the small impromptu meeting, and then I have to swallow my nervousness as I focus on her strained blue eyes.

Just as Beth's breaths deepen, Dr. Shrone steps forward and strokes her arm. "Elizabeth, I'm going to examine you while you have a break, okay?"

Panting harshly, Beth spits out, "You- you'll have to be quick," her half-smile is contagious.

I scoot forward and kiss Beth's forehead as Dr. Shrone lifts the sheet off her legs. No sooner does Beth get her legs drawn up than she starts drawing in air to breathe through another contraction. "S- sorry," she pants.

Focusing on my wife's face, I notice she's picked a new feature of mine to concentrate on, my lips. With the perfect opportunity, I smile warmly at her; giving her all the strength I can in one look.

--

Watching the contraction spike, I turn to Dr. Shrone. She is concentrating on Beth Kent's gasp for air and natural bearing down to get through the pain. She nods, signaling to me, and leaves the room.

Scooting from position, I begin lowering the foot of her bed, draping cloths under Beth's legs and across the distance between her feet and where the doctor's stool will be placed.

Panting for air, Beth registers everything I touch. Clark slides off the side of her bed with a hundred questions in his worrying eyes.

Giving them my most confident smile, I reach down to the stirrups and pull them up as I answer, "It's time-"

Beth shrieks and Clark and I whip around at the same time to see her eyes wide and fear-filled.

"Angel?"

Clark takes her hand in his and she wrenches her upper body toward him desperately. "Clark-!" tears pour down her cheeks as she fights to stay in control.

He leans toward her with his brows folded in concern. He follows her glance to the end of the bed and she turns away with her lip shaking. Realization relaxes his face and he tells her, "It'll be okay, I'll take care of it." Kissing her cheek reassuringly, he tugs his hand from her grip and turns toward me.

I ask desperately, "What's wrong?"

Glancing back at her to see how she's reacting, he leans against the foot of the bed, "The stirrups, Miss Colleen," his voice comes out smooth and quiet. "Do we need them; they are upsetting her."

"The stirrups?"

"I'm sorry," Beth whimpers without looking at us.

Clark rolls his eyes nervously and touches my arm, whispering, "The Luthors used them…"

"Oh!" My chest convulses and I reach out eagerly to push the equipment back to its base. Holding my hands up to them both, I answer firmly, "We can certainly work without them!" I keep my eyes down so they won't see my tears.

Beth sucks in air as her face tightens.

Gesturing to Clark, I tell them both as I scurry to Beth's right, "Angel, you hold her knee up like this," I tug Beth's leg up. He complies, throwing an apologetic glance at his wife. "Beth," she turns to me as she whines through the pain. "When I say, take a big breath and hold it while you push down, okay?" Panic widens her eyes, but she nods. Checking the monitor, I can see the contraction is peaking, "Now!" She does as she's told and I encourage her, "Hold it, a few seconds… okay, relax."

Setting her leg down gently, I watch as Clark does the same. "That was great! We'll count next time, but we're going to do this with each contraction until that baby of yours is here!" A tired smile stretches her lips as she leans her head back against the pillow.

Clark dabs sweat from her forehead and leans over the edge of her mattress and sighs heavily, his jaw tightening painfully. Like most husbands, he's clearly struggling over his wife's toil.

Twenty minutes later, we're all in a flurry of activity as the doctor works the Kent baby so the shoulders can break free. Clark's attention is torn between his wife and nearly-born child. Beth is pale, too pale, but she is alert and eagerly watching her child emerge while Clark and I hold her legs back.

With one last gentle push, the baby is free and bawling beautifully like a newborn should. Doctor Shrone asks Clark to cut the cord as Beth cries joyfully. My heart sinks as I watch all the blood pouring out now that the baby is free.

"It's a boy!" Dr. Shrone wraps the child swiftly and jumps to give the healthy, crying infant to his mother's waiting arms. Turning to me, she puts her hand up, "Just a minute Mrs. Joyner." She sits down quickly to attend to the sack.

Until her comment, I'd forgotten that newborns are typically cleaned and scored on the APGAR _before_ presentation to the parents. Something isn't right. Tearing my eyes away from my angels crying sweetly over their new bundle, I turn to our doctor. "Do you need my assistance?"

The doctor whines, "Maybe," as she works feverishly. Palpating Beth's abdomen, she tugs on the amniotic sack and a new river of blood pours out, overfilling the padding and trickling out on to the floor. Looking up at me helplessly, she squeaks out urgently, "Code A, Mrs. Joyner."

My heart skips a beat, but I march to the phone on the wall and call up the waiting surgical staff to action. Hanging up the phone, I position myself at Beth's shoulder and smile at the unblemished chubby cheeks and large darkly-lashed blue eyes now looking serene and at peace.

"What shall we name him?" Clark asks, his happy eyes and whole face focused entirely on their new child, their first.

Beth grunts, her smile faltering, "I don't-" Leaning her head back, she releases a breath. The blood pressure monitor beeps loudly, interrupting the quiet joy, and her eyes roll back into her pale face.

"Beth!" Clark's panicked already and is touching her for a reaction, stroking her arm and face.

Reaching out swiftly, I tug ever-so-gently and slowly on the baby, hoping to not frighten Clark more.

"Beth, sweetheart," he cries out as I move to the infant table and lay this new sweet angel down for examination. "Doctor?" Clark's voice is deep now and I cringe on the inside, grateful I'm not the one to explain what's happening.

Rating this beautiful child high on the APGAR, I clean and listen as the five-person surgical team walks in and begins their work. Hearing a metal click, I know the stirrups have been engaged.

"No!" Clark barks angrily, "don't use those, my wife-"

"Mr. Kent!" Doctor Shrone finally speaks out. "Your wife is losing blood rapidly and my team is here to help me find the source and stitch her back up."

He watches the assistant strap Beth's feet onto the stirrups and tears fill his eyes as the doctor explains. My eyes fill with tears at the sight, grateful Beth isn't aware.

"Miss Colleen is ready," she pauses to look at me and I nod at her. "To take your baby to the Newborn Nursery and I'm insisting you go with her." He looks down at his wife's pale hand in his and the doctor touches his shoulder, "Please, go now."

The doctor jumps back to her staff and having wheeled baby Kent to Clark's side, I pause as Clark kisses Beth's forehead.

When the anesthesiologist wheels his equipment up and lays her bed back flat, I tug on Clark's tense arm until he looks at me. "Angel, we need to give them room." The fear in his eyes chokes me and I say what I've never promised before, "She's going to be okay."

He swallows and sets her hand back at her side, and like his heavy feet won't work, he follows me out.

--


	29. Chapter 29

…**Overflowing**

Standing in front of the window, I cradle my sleeping child in my arms, as I look out over Star City's skyline without seeing. The early sun is streaming through the hospital mini-blinds and beams a feeling of peace right into my heart.

I can feel his warmth, his softness, smell his newness and hear his heart flutter. But I can barely register his weight in my arms and I mentally note that I will have to relearn daily how to handle him without crushing him as he grows. I'm thrilled at the challenge.

He woke about 2:00a.m., fussy and needing desperately to be fed. So, after he lustily downed a bottle from the nurses and received multiple changes, this is where we've been, standing, pacing and swaying; he slept as I stayed awake.

A tiny sigh breaks the silence and I look down at the miracle of my son. _My son_. His lips are perfect, pink and pursed together like he's waiting to be kissed. He has his mother's button nose and my long dark lashes, lying straight against his dewy cheeks.

Knowing he has a part of me in him, I carefully tug back the blanket from his head full of fine dark hair and allow him his first dose of sunlight. At the glow's touch, his lips part and stretch open into a big yawn. I've seen babies yawn before and it's very cute and sweet at the same time, but this is the first I've witnessed on _my_ child. And my throat tightens at the magnitude of emotion washing over me, the need filling my every fiber to protect him and push him to learn about his heritage, his human heritage.

Taking a quick breath and brushing tears from my cheek, I focus more clearly and am taken by surprise at the blue eyes looking up at me solemnly. I whisper, "Good morning, little man."

He blinks his large eyes, totally relaxed in my arms. "You sure arrived into a special place." Shifting him carefully, I hold him out in front of me as we regard each other. "There are people here who already love you and they haven't even met you yet."

His back arches against my hands; his mouth opens wide into another yawn causing his eyes to close at the space needed. I can feel a warmth flood my insides and I let out a long-held chuckle at the funny contortions his face just made. "I'm sorry, am I keeping you up?"

A deep breath fills the quiet of our room and a sleepy voice crackles, "Yes."

I can hear her legs slide against the sheets as I turn to greet my wife's face; the first I've seen her eyes open since the surgery prompted by my son's eager arrival. She was unstirred by his hungry cries earlier due to the morphine. "Good morning, my sweet sunshine."

She smiles out loud, a shy sleepiness I've not beheld on her since the morning after our wedding night.

"How are you feeling?"

She raises her hand to rub her pale forehead, bringing the twisted IV lines along. "Hmm," her hand falls back to her lap and quiet bliss washes over her as she focuses first on the awake bundle in my hands and then on my fast-watering eyes. "Hungry."

Even her eyes are smiling and I have to choke back tears at the joy filling me all over again. "Would you like to hold your son while I try to find some peach halves for you?"

Her eyes widen and a glow passes through the blueness there. She takes a breath and smiles, the twinkle is back, "I don't know, he looks pretty content with his daddy." I can see the eagerness in her arms and the straightening of her posture, so I know she's teasing.

Eager to do a little teasing of my own, I tilt my ear toward the baby, "What's that?" Beth's eyes pop up to me in curiosity. "He says he needs to see his Mommy."

Pulling up slowly, she grins wryly at me, "Super hearing, I guess?"

"Well, of course, he's my son, too." Bending toward her, I lay his warmth into her eager arms and watch as they fold up in a slow hug around him, her lips brushing his forehead sweetly.

She gasps lightly and I can hear her sniff as she lifts all five of his fingers over her one. "Hello, beautiful, I'm s-so glad to finally meet you. I've b-been waiting so long." She sniffs again and when his rosebud mouth yawns widely, she whines, "O-oh," and looks up at me. Her shiny happy eyes lock with mine and her smile softens, "I love you, Clark Kent, look what you've given me."

"I think you've got that backwards, Mrs. Kent." I tease as she pulls her feet up and then I remember she's just awakened from surgery. "Are you okay?"

"Mm hmm," she murmurs without looking up as she shifts his weight. She props the baby against her thighs and a smile widens her cheeks, deepens her grin lines and settles her shoulders. "Hi sweetheart," she coos. One hand strokes his cheek and glides up over his head; a sensual touch I've always loved. "He sure is your son," her fingers push his hair back and forth softly. "Look at that hair." She glances at me to make sure I'm still paying attention and I catch tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

Needing to see both of their faces, I kneel at her bedside and lean against the mattress. As I look up at her, she smooths my hair back with a wave of her soft hand. I fight to keep my eyes open at her touch, I want to watch her. I sniff, "He's got your eyes, babe."

She looks back at our son, "Maybe," she tilts her head in study. "All babies are born with blue eyes, though, and his have green flecks like yours." Her face is glowing as her eyes gloss over every inch of my son, her son.

"We'll have to wait and see," I gush at her beauty and suddenly I remember something, "Oh, I forgot." I walk to the chair by the door. "Mom brought this and told me to have you open it," I set a soft wrapped package against Beth's hip, "when you finally got to hold him."

Her eyes stay on the baby, "Do you know what it is?"

"No idea." I kneel again.

Her thumbs stroke his fingers, "I'm kind of busy, do you mind?"

I roll my eyes and plant my hands on my hips playfully, and moan, "And it begins…"

"Clark Kent." She giggles and then grimaces. At my stare, she smiles weakly, "I'm okay." Reluctantly, I tug at the crinkly paper. Beth asks without looking, "What did she think of her grandson?"

"She hasn't seen him." Her face pops up at me in surprise. "She refused, _painfully_, until you could greet him properly, first. Everybody else agreed with her."

"Your _mom_..." She dabs her leaky eye. Her face becomes animated, "That's right, little one, your grandma will be so happy to get her hands on you!"

Tearing the paper, I pull out a quilt, my quilt. "Oh." A guttural noise escapes unbidden as I try to stifle tears.

"Oh Clark, that's yours." She smiles tearfully as she drags the soft fabric across her knees. "Oh, and it has new edging." She fingers the red and blue borders as I swallow the lump in my throat. "It's perfect." Her cool hand strokes the edge of my jaw in her comforting way and I lean into it gratefully, but I can't look at her.

Regaining control of my emotion, I pull up a card from the paper. "Here's a note." Opening it, I read my mother's writing out loud. "_This was all Chloe's idea. She asked me to update it a little and I thought it was the perfect way to welcome our new baby! Hugs and kisses for everyone, especially our tired Mama, from Mom_." I clear my throat of huskiness.

Looking up from the card, I see Beth has already spread it over our son's body. Her hands are lovingly and gently tucking and she whispers, "Clark, look!" Focusing through my tears, I see my son's large eyes drift shut and his lips part for sweet breaths. "He's ours, right? We can take him home with us?" She looks up at me soulfully and happily as her hand worms its way into mine.

Smiling at her is all I can do. I can't open my mouth and risk crying out. She means so much to me. "Here," I whisper and wipe my eyes. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a wad of paper and push it into her fingers. She pauses, looking at me questioningly. I choke out, "It's from me." As she opens it, I add, "I wish it were pretty like a greeting card, but,"

"Shh, baby, I'm reading." At her soft reprimand, I glance up at her eyes and see a smile of love.

"Okay, shushing." I swallow the tightness in my throat.

"Thanks," she sniffs as she focuses on my attempt at legible handwriting.

_Dear Elizabeth, my friend, my lover, my wife, and now the mother of my child:_

_I was the one with big mistakes, big regrets and bigger breaks than I'd ever care to confess.  
Oh but, you're the one who looks at me, and sees what I was meant to be - more than just a beautiful mess._

_Where would I be without someone to save me?  
Someone who won't let me fall?  
_

_You are everything that I live for, everything that I can't believe is happening.  
You're right in front of me with arms wide open.__All I know is, every day is filled with hope._

_  
You are everything that I believe for, and I can't help but breathe you in, breathe again,  
Feeling all this life within every single beat of my heart.  
_

_You're everything good in my life, everything honest and true.  
And all of the stars hanging up in the sky could never shine brighter than you! _

_You are, you are everything!_

_Love you forever, _

_Your never-normal Luke Skywalker,_

_Clark _

_***_ Song lyrics by Matthew West, _Everything_ ***


End file.
